


Under Hidden Leaves

by Nejinee



Series: The Forest for the Trees [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Bureaucracy, Dai-nana-han | Team 7 (Naruto)-centric, Domestic, Fluff, Found Family, Fuuinjutsu, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, POV Multiple, Slice of Life, Team as Family, jounin gossip network, pre-slash sasunaru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25789081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nejinee/pseuds/Nejinee
Summary: Naruto was growing up, Sakura was maturing, and Sasuke was becoming more batshit by the day.Iruka was getting too old for this crap.A glimpse at the years that span the evolution of Iruka and Kakashi's relationship from distant colleagues to a lot more.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Series: The Forest for the Trees [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884487
Comments: 30
Kudos: 321





	Under Hidden Leaves

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to Steebadore who betaed the hell out of this story. A legend!
> 
> I'm obviously reverting back to my youth, to my old fandoms because here is my first Naruto fic in a literal decade. It's good to be back. Enjoy.
> 
> Also: not canon-compliant.

There are two institutions in Konoha that share the same name. For some unfathomable reason, the development planning council–responsible for the rebuilding of Konoha after the third shinobi war–allowed it, and obviously couldn’t have given two shits about the confusion it would propagate in years to come.

There’s The Watering Hole, which is the local community swimming pool that was dug out when they were rebuilding the architectural hellscape that was Konoha after the war. The pool was about fifty feet deep and narrowed downward like an inverted cone, probably because the guys who built it had more construction background in copper mining than in shared communal architecture. Anyway, the pool was green, boasting a natural filtration system designed to cycle itself with zero maintenance required. It was more like a giant, opaquely unsettling pond than anything else, but it was a village hotspot for kids and families alike.

The second establishment, The Watering Hole™, was a local bar in the almost-centre of Konoha. It was on the other side of town, far from the joyful screaming of children enjoying the summer. More importantly, the bar was favoured exclusively by the elite ninja of Konoha, it being a place where they could go to let loose and get shit-faced after missions. Or between missions. Or before missions.

So there were two Watering Holes, built for two very different demographics. Each, ostensibly, served the same purpose, namely: a place of cathartic stress-relief from the rigours of a life worth living. While one group could expend their excess energy by cannon-balling into the cool water of mother nature, the other group could drink themselves sick before getting into a bar brawl and reminding themselves that life was a many-splendored, if bruising, thing.

* * *

It wasn’t uncommon to find Kurenai and her fellow jounin spending an evening or two at The Watering Hole™.

The bar had two rules:

1\. No kids allowed

2\. No spilled blood (because blood was a bitch to scrape out of the weathered wood flooring, walls and furniture.)

It was a great place to unwind and relax after a successful heist, protection detail or assassination. Kurenai was prone to ordering special drinks based on her most recent missions, so it kept things fresh and fun. Last week she’d had some fruity lime concoction to celebrate the beatdown of some local pimp who’d fancied himself as more of an overlord than societal skid mark. Asahi at the bar was always open to Kurenai’s drink prompts. He liked testing new flavours with her. She swirled her whiskey and rye and laughed at Raidou’s comment on their most recent all-team briefing.

“I mean, you’d think the new kids would understand what was what, you know what I mean?” Raidou shook his head and took a swig of beer.

They were up top in the bar’s rooftop patio. It wasn’t the favourite shinobi spot just because of its excellent alcohol and lowdown, dirty prices; it also had one of the best views of the village, affording any sober ninja the ability to keep an eye on a lot of Konoha.

“You gotta cut the chuunin some slack.” Asuma sighed around his cigarette. “They’ll learn eventually that they can’t be late to those godforsaken meetings.”

“Oh, you don’t like the Sandaime briefings?” Kurenai smiled over the lip of her drink and flashed her eyes at him.

Asuma’s mouth twisted up on one side. “I have the utmost respect for our highest-level of government." He murmured lowly. “I just wish we all didn’t have to listen to the minutiae of running a village. It’s fucking painful.”

“I like knowing everything." Genma said, leaning back, his elbow resting on the low wooden wall beside their table. “We’re ninja, we’re supposed to know everything.” A cool breeze ruffled his hair. His slipped his senbon from one side of his mouth to the other, making Kurenai worry, once again, for his dental hygiene. How he didn’t have dented teeth from the years of metal in his mouth was something science couldn’t explain. “Besides,” Genma grinned, “It’s always fun to see Iruka get pissy with the newbies. He hates them being late more than we do.”

“Where is he, anyway?” Asuma said, looking up at the door to the patio. “Thought he was joining us for once?”

“Yes, where is our esteemed bundle of nerves and affection?” Kurenai laughed. “I haven’t seen him all week.”

“Ugh,” Genma rolled his eyes, “You know he’s late because he cares about the children.”

“They are the future,” Raidou nodded.

“Please." Genma gulped back more beer. “One of those brats, forgive me I don’t know which one, was practising his kunai work in the damn street the other day, just, you know–“ Genma gestured flipping his hands like he was a juggler, “–flinging stabby projectiles in public, scaring the shit out of moms and grannies alike.”

“Man, they really are teaching them knife work earlier, huh?” Raidou frowned. “I swear they get younger every year.”

“Next we’ll see kids in diapers jamming exploding tags down the backs of our pants,” Asuma sighed.

“Children." Genma shook his head, “the fuck, man.”

“Iruka teaches because he cares,” Kurenai said, swirling her drink and watching the dried orange piece slide around the rim. “And because he gets a kick out of yelling at brats.”

“That’s our boy,” Raidou said. “Our beautiful sunset boy.”

“Speak of the devil!” Genma yelled and threw up his hands.

Kurenai twisted in her seat and spotted the man in question making his way across the bar. It looked like Iruka had come the civilian route: through the door and up the stairs; how polite, how very Iruka.

“Hey, hey, sensei!” Asuma clapped. He took his smoke out of his mouth and stubbed it into the available ashtray.

“You’re late, sensei.” Raidou grinned. “We got started ages ago.”

Iruka looked harried, but then he always looked like that.Kurenai patted the seat beside her and he nodded gratefully. “Sorry, sorry, I know.” Iruka sighed. “Got caught up looking for Naruto.”

“Lost another one, eh?” Asuma chuckled.

“He was supposed to be back from his mission already but he wasn’t at home, or at the mission desk. He hasn’t been in for ramen, either.” Iruka exhaled loudly and slumped back in his chair, clearly exhausted. “I hope he hasn’t fallen down a drainpipe or something.”

“I’m sure he’s around,” Kurenai said. She elbowed him in the ribs. “Kakashi’s on those kids anyway. Maybe sent him on an errand?”

Iruka made a face.

“What, you haven’t checked with Kakashi?” Asuma asked.

“No,” Iruka looked at him sharply. “I don’t care about him. I shouldn’t have to check in with him. I’m just worried about Naruto.” He exhaled slowly and raised both hands so he could tighten his already straining hair tie. Kurenai wondered how many hair ties Iruka went through in a week. She made a note to add it as another item in their weekly jounin betting pool– _number of times Iruka has to buy new elastics after he snaps another one_. “And besides,” Iruka went on, “I know they’re back because Kakashi was in early to hand in his mission report this morning.” He looked peeved about it.

“Always fun,” Asuma said while trying to look innocent himself. Kurenai had had to listen to him whine and bitch about his own–very late–mission report that he was too scared at this point to turn in for fear of having Iruka as his check-in chuunin. Iruka was notoriously bitchy about rules and regulations in the mission office. It’s why he excelled in the role, of course, why even the ANBU knew to pay him some respect.

She nudged him under the table and Asuma made a face that screamed ‘shut up shut up don’t remind him I’m late _shut up_.’

“You’d think that the copy-nin himself could hand in a proper report that didn’t look like it survived a ritual burning after being dunked in the river.” Iruka huffed.

“Hm,” Genma hummed, probably thinking back on his own sloppy reporting. Why these idiots couldn’t follow through on basic jounin expectations was too much effort for Kurenai to waste time on. She was excellent at reporting in, her notes always detailed and flawless, written in her perfectly legible handwriting taught to her by her mother. These men were just weak bitches about the smallest things.

“Wait, his report was _wet_?” Raidou said.

“It was all crumpled and barely legible, like he took it on a tour of the Konoha sewage system,” Iruka rolled his eyes skyward, “he’s the worst.”

“Or the best,” Genma said.

“No,” Iruka insisted to the heavens. “Disagree.”

Kurenai held back the smile that was trying to creep onto her face. “Much as we love to hear you complaining about our esteemed colleague, I’m far more interested in what Anko said about you finding yourself some new hook-up,” she purred.

“What?” Iruka frowned at her, startled. Then he rolled his eyes, “Oh guys, come on. The gossip mill’s run out of fodder already and now it’s back to me?”

“The gossip mill’s never peeled its eye off you.” Genma grinned and crossed his arms on the table. The senbon bounced jauntily between his teeth. “You’re always top of mind. That’s what you get for being Konoha’s forever unattainable, beautiful bachelor.”

“Oh, for the love–“ Iruka said, exasperated. “You all need lives.”

“Hey, he’s right,” Raidou said, “It’s not our fault everyone wonders why our revered academy sensei, the one with the big, gentle brown eyes and super cute smile is always leaving dates high and dry.”

“I do _not_ –“

“My cousin says otherwise,” Asuma said lightly.

Iruka flushed red all over. “You never told me she was into torture-play!”

“Say what?” Genma’s eyebrows shot up in interest.

“You never said you weren’t,” Asuma shrugged. “We’re all shinobi here, man. We’ve all got issues. She’s cool with it.”

“She _really_ shouldn’t be,” Iruka hissed. “And I mean, you guys need to stop setting me up with your random friends and family. If I ever need the help, I’ll let you know. Just give it a rest.”

“But Iruka-chan,” Genma pouted, “We all just want you to find someone to love and hold. Someone to keep you busy so you can’t take your frustrations out on us.”

Iruka looked at Genma like he was some revolting creature that had crawled out of his toilet. “You all just want to watch me fail over and over again. You feed off my trauma. It amuses you all to watch me make an ass of myself on dates.”

Raidou grinned, “Hey, you started it when you had that three-way with Shinzaku and his girlfriend. Trust you to be so sexy you broke them both and he had to take a five-year away mission to get over it.”

Iruka flushed a deep red under his brown skin. “That is such an oversimplification and also an extreme exaggeration of what happened! And I told you to stop talking about it! That was ten years ago! I was young and stupid! They’re not even together anymore!”

“Because you broke them,” Genma laughed.

“I have heard your junk is magical,” Kurenai said with a wink at Iruka.

“Please, for the love–“ Iruka covered his face with his hands. “I need new friends. You all are terrible people and I deserve better.”

“You deserve a good dicking down,” Genma said.

“I know a girl,” Asuma said, eyes opening a fraction wider like he’d just recalled something. “She’s into that kinky stuff you like. Would probably strap on a dick for you.” He looked at Kurenai with a thoughtful expression. “Is it Kenshiki that sells those things or the market on the East Seventh Lane?”

Kurenai snorted. “You sound very invested.”

Asuma shrugged. “A man must be aware of all things when courting a partner.” Kurenai really was an idiot for finding this man attractive.

“You don’t know what I like!” Iruka wailed through the gap between his hands. He looked about ready to burst with rage, so Kurenai took pity on him.

“Okay, okay, leave him be,” she said as Iruka peeked through his fingers. “Iruka’s one of us, give him some breathing room. He’s had a long day teaching toddlers how to decapitate insurgents. Let the gossips make what they will of his dating life, but let those gossips not be us.”

She eyed Asuma and made it clear that if he _did_ hear any good gossip pertaining to anyone at the table, that he would be honour-bound to share it with her immediately. Asuma winked. What a good man.

“I don’t have a dating life,” Iruka said, “Wait, why am I even entertaining this topic?” he twisted in his seat and waved down the waitress. “Beer, please. Anything to shut these people up.”

“Uh huh,” the waitress murmured, supremely unbothered by her regular flow of highly dangerous and deadly patrons. “One beer.”

“Two.” Asuma held up his finger.

“Two ofthe most affordable local beers available, got it,” she said drily, fully aware that no matter how many missions her shinobi patrons worked, they were all still cheap as shit and forever willing to drink swill.

“So, Naruto?” Raidou said artlessly, knowing that redirecting the topic onto Iruka’s favourite graduate always worked wonders.

“Oh,” Iruka rubbed at his cheek, “Yeah, no. Whatever. I’ll find him tomorrow.” He tilted his head to look at Kurenai. “How is your team doing? I saw Hinata earlier this week, she looked exhausted.”

“Hm,” Kurenai sipped her whiskey, “they’re good. I finally got Kiba to bathe and scrape himself clean.”

“Thank god,” Asuma huffed.

“Or, more accurately, Shino got him to,” Kurenai sighed, slightly mollified. “I was going about it the wrong way. I’d been saying it was a deterrent, having such a distinct scent when on missions; enemies would spot him. I should have known better.”

“This should be good,” Asuma grinned and rested his chin on his hand.

“I forget I’m dealing with hormonal teenagers,” Kurenai sighed. “Shino just convinced Kiba that if he washed, maybe the girls would finally pay attention to him. After all, he’s not looking for an Inuzuka girlfriend and they’re the only ones who’d be okay with his stink.”

“Oh god,” Genma shuddered.

“Eurgh,” Iruka said.

“Wait, why are you both–” Kurenai paused.

“Inuzuka,” Genma said like it was clear. At Kurenai’s curious expression, he waved his hand in the air. “They’re like, the hottest and simultaneously the scariest women on the planet. I dated one for a brief time and then wanted out. She was… a lot; not a good match for the average ninja.”

“Kiba shouldn’t date Inuzuka women because they’re scary?” Kurenai asked.

“And they’re his _relatives_?” Raidou said as the ever-present voice of reason. He looked very put off by their lack of basic observational skills.

“That too.” Genma nodded.

“Wait,” Kurenai looked at Iruka, “when did you ever date an Inuzuka? I’m pretty sure we’d have heard about it.”

“Date is a strong term–” Iruka said slowly.

“Your order,” the waitress appeared and unceremoniously dropped their drinks onto the table, beer sloshing over the rim of each glass. The shinobi all knew better than to comment or complain; it wasn’t like they came here for the service.

When she was out of earshot, Iruka rolled his eyes, realizing his friends weren’t deterred. “Okay, look, I had this thing with one of the Inuzuka back in the day. That’s it. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Which one?” Asuma asked.

“There’s so many,” Kurenai sighed, “does it matter?”

“Not really,” Genma concurred. “The chick I got with was, if I recall, one of nine kids and she had, like thirty-seven cousins or something insane.”

“They _are_ one of Konoha’s largest, most revered clans,” Asuma said.

“They get around,” Raidou sipped his beer.

“The first son of their clan leader happens to be my stinkiest student.” Kurenai laughed at the absurdity of it all. “So hold your tongues.”

“Cheers to kids.” Raidou raised his glass. “Thank god we don’t have any.” The others laughed and clinked their glasses together.

“Speaking of kids,” Raidou sucked at his teeth, “You really put the new chunnin in their place, huh, Iruka?”

“What?” Iruka blinked over the rim of his beer glass.

“At the all-shinobi meeting this morning.” Raidou smiled wider. “You always take strips off the newest ninja?”

“Oh.” Iruka frowned. “No. Well, they were late and chattering like idiots when Sandaime was speaking. I wasn’t trying to _take strips_ off them. You make me sound like a back-breaker.”

“Hm, that’s what I’ve heard. Or that’s what I’ve seen scrawled on the bathroom wall.” Genma coughed, which earned him a kick under the table from Iruka.”Ow.”

“No one needs to disrespect the Hokage,” Iruka snapped. “Especially not the new ninja who can’t be bothered to make it to meetings on time.”

“Rude,” Asuma said into his drink.

“Such lack of reverence.” Kurenai nodded solemnly.

“Ha ha.” Iruka made a tortured smiley face. “You mock me but you know I’m right.”

“Your reputation certainly precedes you, sensei,” Genma said.

“I don’t have a reputation.” The others all guffawed and made sounds of disbelief. “I don’t,” Iruka insisted. “What, you all think there’s a problem with me specifically? That I’m difficult or something?”

“Not at all,” Raidou said, hands up. “I wouldn’t dream of disagreeing with you, though I also don’t want to incur the wrath of the raging Umino Iruka, who can be heard reaming out the school kids under his care from five blocks away.”

Genma snorted and covered his mouth with a hand.

Iruka huffed and refocused on his drink. “You come talk to me about patience and wrath when you have to scrape twelve children off the classroom ceiling because they thought it was fun to practise chakra-bonding and then got too scared to work their way back down to the ground. You ever tried to peel crying children off a ceiling before? It’s a soggy business.”

“Oh, I remember doing that when I was little.” Genma smiled fondly.

“Gremlins,” Iruka muttered.

“You love them all.” Kurenai laughed. “That’s why they love you back.” It was true. Her team spoke highly of Iruka, and they rarely spoke kindly of anyone above the age of fifteen.

“Well, seeing how I can’t legally murder any students within the walls of the academy…” Iruka said.

“–Not with that attitude," Genma added.

“–I kind of have to take care of them and learn other ways to expend my frustration, okay?”

“Are we talking about yelling at newbies still?” Asuma cocked a brow at Kurenai. She grinned. God, he could read her thoughts so well.

“Or is this some more of your kinky sexy bad-times?” Raidou said.

“I hate you all and I hope you die horribly disgusting deaths so that I never have to come to your funerals and pretend I ever cared about you." Iruka sniffed and sat back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You love us,” Genma said.

“I detest you.”

“We missed you!” Genma cooed. “You never drink with us.”

“That’s because I have a life and I hate you.”

* * *

Iruka was in his kitchen, drinking milk right out of the carton when a shadow crossed over his bowl of shinobi-os.

He turned, carton still at his lips, and blinked at the person perched on his windowsill.

He put the milk down. “You know, my insurance adjuster keeps wanting to up my payments because I don’t have the suggested shinobi-reinforced windows,” he said drily. “ Which I’ve never had to purchase because I make people _use the door._ ”

Kakashi’s visible eye curved as he smiled. “Ah, it’s early, isn’t it, Iruka-sensei.”

Iruka tried to ignore the way Kakashi’s eye roamed down his bare chest. “It’s Saturday morning,” he said. “What do you want?”

“Aside from recommending you upgrade your insurance package?” Kakashi said genially. “I know a guy, if you would like a referral? I’m sure I could get you a better rate than what you have currently.”

Insurance was fairly expensive in Konoha. It had to be because of the amount of property damage incurred by the many pounding feet of trainees and professional shinobi alike. It was sensible to have a village built with reinforced roof tiles and rooftop walkways to easy access, but it was another thing for civilians and the working class to pay out more than they should when they didn’t need to.

“I’m a teacher,” Iruka said dispassionately, “I don’t have the financial stability of a special jounin such as yourself.”

“Ah, but you also don’t have the opportunity of getting killed on every mission you take," Kakashi countered. “Surely a longer life lived while training the youth of Konoha makes insurance premiums worthwhile?”

“That is very flawed logic. Look, when’s the last time you talked to the insurance brokers, huh? They’re out for blood, probably moreso than actual killer-nin. I think it’s a travesty to have to pay more for window insurance when we live in a world of unruly shinobi who refuse to use doors.”

“This is a touchy topic, ne, sensei?” Kakashi sounded very much like Naruto for a second, which sparked a few broken wires in Iruka’s still sleepy head. He would not find this man endearing. Never.

“What do you want?” Iruka said haughtily.

“Mmm, I was searching for Naruto." Kakashi scratched at his cheek. “He’s usually here, or at Ichiraku.”

“Well, I haven’t seen him,” Iruka said. Kakashi was still staring at his chest. It was the height of summer and Iruka chose to sleep in sweats and not much else, so Kakashi could just fuck right off with those sorts of looks.

“Maa,” Kakashi sighed. “That’s too bad. I had a juicy mission lined up for him.”

“What kind?” Iruka leaned against the counter and crossed his ankle, toes bent against the cool wooden floor.

“He’s been nagging me for a B-rank,” Kakashi said. “Something ‘exciting.’” He quirked his fingers into air quotes.

“He’s too young to start B-ranks." Iruka frowned, his heart picking up at the thought of Naruto getting chased down by some rabid missing-nin with a machete.

“Mm." Kakashi scratched his chin. “You say that…”

“I do." Iruka scowled. “He only just made chuunin. If you get him killed, I swear to god, you won’t sleep another day of your life without the ominous terror of me haunting your every step, ready to gut you bow-to-stern.”

Kakashi blinked. “I see.” He glanced down onto the street below. Maybe someone was down there, living a normal life and not talking to sleazy jounin who hung out on windowsills at eight in the morning. He turned back to Iruka.

It happened in slow-mo, but also, somehow, in a flash. For weeks after, Iruka wandered if he’d imagined it.

Kakashi tugged at his mask and pulled it down, revealing a straight nose and a wide, thin-lipped mouth that was curling into the most devilish of grins. It was very annoying to find that the man had–please do not judge Iruka for this observation–a very sexy mouth. Because _of course_ he did.

“Iruka-sensei is very loyal,” Kakashi murmured. Fuck, he had nice teeth too. Of course Konoha’s famously secretive copy-ninja was not only ragingly annoying, but handsome too. “I was going to say that Naruto asked for B-rank, but since Sakura and Sasuke-kun are on a separate mission with Kurenai’s team, I lined up a couple D-ranks in the village to help him pay the bills instead.”

Iruka frowned. He reached up to tighten his ponytail. Kakashi was definitely staring now. Pervert.

“So you’re saying you’re not giving him a B-rank yet?” Iruka said, eyes squinting at the grown man perched on his windowsill.

“I am not,” Kakashi said. He pulled his mask up, covering his face. “But thank you for the ominous threats to my person–and so early on the weekend, sensei.” He smiled. “I’ll take your terrifying words to heart.”

And then he was gone, disappearing into the trees.

Iruka leaned across the counter so he could squint into the morning sunshine.

He then eyed his once-clean white wooden window frames. “Bastard,” he muttered. “I should probably get that window insurance.”

* * *

The thing about Umino Iruka was that he was actually very popular. Much as Kakashi tended to stay out of the gossip cesspool, he wasn’t completely oblivious to this fact.

Over the years, Kakashi learned all he knew about Iruka through Naruto’s repetitive screaming adoration. Iruka fed the boy every other night and doted on him regularly. Kakashi knew Iruka took Naruto clothes shopping when his horrific orange gear wore thin. Kakashi also heard about the “sex talk” Iruka had felt compelled to give Naruto on his sixteenth birthday. It was one of the few times Kakashi had wanted to thank the teacher for introducing Naruto to the concept of asking pressing questions to his teammates, which resulted in many afternoons of Kakashi gleefully cackling while Sasuke and Sakura attempted to explain what little they knew about sex to a very intrigued, but open-minded, late-blooming blond idiot.

So most of what Kakashi knew about Iruka came from Naruto, which wasn’t the worst lens to see a man through, but Naruto’s experience of Iruka wasn’t true to life in many ways.

There were other things about Iruka that were there for the taking, if one simply paid attention.

First of all, Iruka was very good looking. This was not news to anyone. The man just was. Facts were facts. Many shinobi–ANBU included–had a comment or two to share whenever Iruka came up in conversation. Kakashi was used to it. Everyone wanted a piece, apparently.

Secondly, Iruka scared everyone shitless.

Kakashi hadn’t been aware of this fact until he began to listen to all levels of gossip and chatter. It paid to blend in and listen.

Today, the all-team shinobi meeting was in full swing; crowded and bustling before Kakashi got there. He ambled through the mass of people, getting waved down by Gai.

He made his way to the back of the room, thankful that he could lean against a wall. These meetings could go on a while and he didn’t want to make it obvious that he’d rather be outside committing seppuku than being stuffed indoors for three hours.

Many more shinobi petered in as lack-lustre as always. Asuma, not far away, made space for Kurenai, her face lighting up. Kakashi wondered if they’d finally gotten together or if he was going to continually be exposed to their particular brand of pining for the rest of his life.

Romance really was one of life’s greatest and also most embarrassing adventures.

The rest of the jounin were in attendance, Genma leaning up against Raidou like he always did. Kakashi watched them giggle like school children until a bunch of mid-level chuunin showed up. The jounin all went blank-faced, falling into the role of the serious shinobi with the deep, dark lives that no chuunin or genin would ever understand. Kakashi rolled his eyes; dramatic idiots, the lot of them.

Genma whistled when more shinobi squeezed through the crowd. “Irukaaa,” he whispered, and snapped his fingers.

Kakashi perked up, though not in any physically noticeable way. Gai was far too close for Kakashi to let anything slip.

Iruka was timely, like always. Kakashi hated that he was noticing the man more these days, but he couldn’t resist. Iruka went to stand beside Raidou, the three of them making brief conversation.

Kakashi watched them. The three of them had been fast friends for a very long time. They seemed similar in age so Kakashi assumed they’d gone through the academy together. Yet Raidou and Genma were jounin and Iruka was still chuunin. It begged the questions, but had Iruka failed out of a promotion or was it a choice to stay behind? Kakashi should probably reassess his biases on shinobi levels, but it was still annoyingly intriguing. He never cared before whether a chuunin was worth his time in any capacity, be it personal or professional. Kakashi usually assumed chuunin adults just weren’t very good ninja and so were not really worth his time. What made Iruka different was unclear.

The Sandaime appeared in his hokage robes, hat dipped low over his face, and most of the room went hush, except for the group of newbies by the door.

Iruka definitely had his eyes on them.

 _Very amusing,_ Kakashi thought.

While the Hokage went through the rigamarole of updating everyone on procedural adjustments and recruiting, Kakashi let his mind wander.

In a room of men and women who tried their level best to stand out _and_ blend in, Iruka’s hair was a recognizable tuft. He had a nice profile and always stood at attention, back straight, eyes forward. The perfect little ninja.

Sandaime droned on some more about the resurgence of a Mist-nin cell that had been spotted in the West. Kakashi wondered idly if his own team was going to run into any of them on their next slated mission. He hoped so. It would liven things up a little. The last few missions had dragged a little, even if the pay was decent. Nothing like a little stabbing and mental manipulation to liven up the old neighbourhood.

“And, as requested, we have a new budget adjustment plan for you all,” Sandaime said with a smile. “I know it’s taken far too long, but the feedback from last month’s meeting has been taken in and digested. I know salaries have been in question and mission payouts as well. We want to fix the imbalances where we can.”

The room shifted and many of the ninja glanced at their friends, eyebrows going up.

“It would be remiss of me to explain the details to you all, considering I merely signed off on them." Sandaime chuckled. “So I’m going to let the administrative team, those who actually did the work, explain the changes.”

Kakashi had to hand it to the old man, he was good at handing off the boring jobs to whoever would take them. That’s what leadership was: delegation and cool hats.

“Oh ho,” someone to Kakashi’s right muttered under their breath.

He looked up and blinked. Iruka was heading to the front of the room, a large scroll in the crook of his elbow.

He stood with a couple of the other admin shinobi, those who handled the day-to-day bureaucracy of keeping Konoha’s ninja industry in check. The woman (Kino-san?) opened up the presentation by recounting the formal requests made by many shinobi regarding a reworking of the compensation and payment coming from successful missions.

Kakashi zoned out a little. This was the part of the job he didn’t care about, not really. Money was money.

When Kino-san listed the new percentages assigned to three-or-more team missions, the crowd chatter got louder. Iruka looked up and eyed the bunch of newbies by the door. It wasn’t like freshly nominated chuunin were there–only the ones who’d been working two or more years could be invited–but still; newbies were newbies.

Kakashi watched the man, amused by his tense shoulders and bristling hair. As the new payout structure was explained in severe detail, the room got louder.

“Nice,” someone to Kakashi’s left whispered. “With that bump in pay it won’t hurt so bad when we gotta run a couple D-ranks.”

“And the bastards on S-ranks are getting a shitload more,” his companion griped.

Typical. Of course lower-level ninja would complain about high-rank missions having larger compensation. He didn’t need to hear this. Kakashi’s eyes were on Iruka. The man was glaring now, eyes on the ninja group bunched up at the door. They were still chattering away together. At one point, Kino’s voice could barely be heard over the din.

“Tsubarame, Mitsukoi," Iruka’s voice cut through the noise. The room went quieter, but the whispers and not-so-secret hand signals got faster.

“Oh, Iruka-sensei’s got the big voice out today,” someone giggled.

“Ah, I love it,” their friend giggled back. “He’s so angry all the time.”

Asuma was laughing right along with Kurenai, who seemed amused by Iruka’s behaviour. It actually said a lot about Iruka that some of his friends were elite jounin.

Hm.

Perhaps Kakashi had missed something.

Commanding the respect of Asuma and Kurenai spoke well of Iruka. Kakashi, though not as embedded in the social side of Konoha as his compatriots, was still aware of the structure demarcations between ninja levels. Not many chuunin got to hang out with the senior jounin. Outside of actual teams, they had different jobs, different expectations, ran in different circles.

The Sandaime, highest level of shinobi, also trusted Iruka implicitly, if not with the mission desk and multiple admin duties, then most definitely with the care of Naruto.

Kakashi wasn’t an idiot. He knew he’d been assigned team 7 because of Naruto, as a way to not only train the kid, but to keep an eye on him. Perhaps, for similar reasons, Iruka had been tasked with looking after him as well. In this, they shared one thing.

Kakashi hadn’t thought anything about the academy sensei beyond how nice his ass looked in his ninja blacks. Looking at Iruka now, his eyes dark, brows furrowed and his pout in full bloom, it was a wonder Kakashi hadn’t been paying more attention to him all along.

* * *

“You want to learn tags?” Kakashi was lolling in a nearby tree when he perked up at Sakura’s question. “Why?” Sasuke went on in that tone he used whenever he wanted to get smacked around by Naruto. Kakashi was relatively sure, after having worked many years with this team, that Sasuke had to eventually come around to whatever it was he was fighting against when it came to Naruto. “Tags are for laymen, dobe.”

“No, tags are cool!” Naruto said loudly, which was, admittedly, the only volume setting he had. “And so are seals!”

“But not everybody needs to learn that stuff.” Sakura sighed. She was sitting cross-legged on the grass, packing the clay pot in front of her with kimchi. Kakashi had left them to this business hours ago, only sneaking back to make sure they hadn’t obliterated one another in a fit of team-building rage. They were getting better at staying on point, especially when an easy, well-paid mission like this came along. Not every D-rank meant leaving the village and risking their lives. Sometimes it was covering for injured or elderly civilians who needed assistance getting their wares ready for the cross-village festival. Also: a good excuse to loll about outdoors in the sunshine.

Naruto was mashing the hot pepper paste into a huge metal bowl with his bare hands, liberally coating the cabbage leaves Sasuke handed him. Kakashi wondered if it was too late to mention that the paste might leave actual burn marks on Naruto’s skin. Sakura was at least smart enough to use barrier seals on her arms and hands. Kakashi deducted a couple points from both Sasuke and Naruto’s running totals of minus twenty and minus sixty-two respectively. Sakura was, unsurprisingly, still in the black, points-wise.

“They sell tags for a reason,” Sasuke said, using his knife to great effect. He stabbed a cabbage, tearing it in half. “So we don’t have to make our own. A waste of time.”

“I don’t get you guys,” Naruto huffed, bent over his bowl, mashing with passion. “I think it’s better to know seals and tags and not rely on everyone else to do the hard work.”

“But tags are so…” Sakura waved her hand around. “I don’t know, basic?”

“If they were so basic, we’d all be doing them,” Naruto said with an uncanny sharpness to his voice. Kakashi was mildly impressed the kid was holding up his end of the argument.

“Waste of time,” Sasuke muttered, hacking at the cabbage. He split the chunks into pieces then began separating the leaves. Sakura used one of Tsunade’s power techniques to slam the clay pot’s lid into place, sealing it tightly. She got up to stack it beside the fifty other pots they’d already filled.

“Sasuke-baka,” Naruto snapped, “What do you know, when you were born with fancy family eyeballs, huh? You just came out special, _boom_.” He mimed an explosion with his red paste hands, “Well, not everyone has stuff like that, you know.”

Not everyone comes from an elite ninja family with biologically superior traits, is what Kakashi heard. He sighed up in his tree, leg dangling. Every day he worked with Naruto he saw more of Minato peeking through. The kid could have had so much more growing up, could have been so much more, had his parents survived the war. Kakashi didn’t like to linger on that thought very often. He’d tamped it down a lot over the years.

His guilt could cripple him some days if he let it. Not just because he’d had more time with the Yondaime than Naruto ever would, but that he, as an adult–post-war–hadn’t done much to support the little blond jinchuuriki running around at the academy. Most of the adults had a burden to bear that had nothing to do with the literal demon housed inside Naruto.

“Whatever,” Sasuke said, tossing a new batch of cabbage at Naruto. “Tags are still dumb.”

“Nah uh,” Naruto insisted. He balled up a handful of sauce-covered cabbage and dropped it into the newest pot Sakura had brought over. “Iruka-sensei showed me a couple of his techniques this one time and it was so cool. You don’t even know.” He sounded like he had a secret up his sleeve.

“What do you mean?” Sakura perked up. “Iruka-sensei isn’t really known for anything special, right?”

 _Except for that smile and those legs,_ Kakashi thought idly. He really needed to deal with whatever it was his libido wanted out of this Iruka fascination.

“Well, you know Iruka-sensei is like, from a family of seal-breakers, right?” Naruto said.

“What? Since when?” Sasuke sounded peeved at not having this knowledge pre-installed in his brain.

“Since forever.” Naruto sighed like an old sage who had to weather his dumb companions’ idiocy. “Who do you think made all our explosive and smoke tags at the academy?”

“I thought he just bought them?” Sakura murmured. “Like any normal ninja.”

“Nah,” Naruto cawed like a bird, “he makes them from scratch. Ink and pens and scrolls, the whole thing. It’s so cool.”

“Again,” Sasuke said, hacking at a very innocent cabbage like it was a serial killer. “Not impressed.”

“He does _cagrillaphy,_ ” Naruto said, nose in the air like some intellectual speaking to five-year olds.

“Calligraphy,” Sakura said with a tiredness in her voice Kakashi was only too familiar with. “God, Naruto. At least say it right.”

“Idiot,” Sasuke muttered, which got him a spattered hairful of spicy cabbage.

“You don’t get it!” Naruto wailed, punching at the fleshy vegetables in his care. Kakashi hoped the kid’s eyes were closed. He couldn’t tell from his spot above and behind them. “You don’t respect the ancient arts! Iruka-sensei is the greatest ninja ever–aside from me, of course.”

Kakashi swung his other leg down and sat sideways on the tree branch.

Hm.

This was actually very interesting. For once, his idiot team was providing him with new intel and not draining him of his life force.

He wondered how far Iruka-sensei’s knowledge on seals went. Konoha wasn’t known for its scripture prodigies, being a village packed to the brim with ancient families with horribly intimidating bloodline limits. But this might actually make sense of why the Sandaime–and now the Godaime–still had him working the mission duty desk. Not all chuunin, least of all academy teachers, got the chance to work with the active members of ANBU and special jounin teams.

Maybe this was the _in_ Kakashi needed.

He dropped down onto the grass, making the three chuunin squeal like stuck pigs. Another ten points from each of them for lack of environmental awareness.

“Seals, huh?” he said, walking around them, inspecting their handiwork.

“How long were you _up_ there?” Sakura shrieked. “You crazy bast–“ Kakashi slid his eye her way and she visibly swallowed her words, choking them back down her throat.

“Kakashi-sensei." Naruto’s face was all screwed up. “Tell these two that tags and seals are cool!”

“Hm." Kakashi slouched inside his flak jacket. He eyed Sasuke and his red, sticky bangs. “We haven’t done seal training, have we?”

“No!” Naruto screamed.

Kakashi rubbed at an ear. “Ay, Naruto, volume.”

“My fucking eardrums." Sasuke was leaning away from Naruto, put out.

“Can we do seals, sensei? Eh! _Eeeeh?_ ” Naruto leaned over his metal bowl, mouth stretched in an excited grin. “We’re old enough now! You know I’m good with learning from scrolls!”

“Seventeen isn’t very old, Naruto-kun,” Kakashi said. “In fact, in my eyes, and most certainly Iruka-sensei’s eyes, you are all still itty bitty baby birds.” He flapped his hands like a tiny set of wings.

“We’re not babies!” Naruto whined. “Teach us stuff!” He said it like Kakashi hadn’t just taught them a new shadow clone technique the week prior, like Kakashi was slacking. _God, the audacity of youth._

“Hm." Kakashi inspected Sakura’s sealwork on the pots of Kimchi. “Maybe,” he murmured, tapping a finger over his mouth.

“Count me out,” Sasuke huffed. “Seals are for administrative-nin.”

“Admin-nin,” Naruto snorted.

Kakashi stood up. “You use seals all the time.”

“Not that kind, the written, scroll-type.” Sasuke _tch_ ed.

“Tsunade-sama uses summoning scrolls,” Sakura said.

“Yeah, but like, the language of scrolls, the writing stuff.” Sasuke sighed. “We can just buy these things.”

“Naruto,” Kakashi said, trying to drive this wild bull of a conversation in the right direction,“do you think Iruka-sensei would be willing to give a lesson?”

“Eh?” Naruto frowned up at him, his eyes closed, slanted like the fox within him. “I don’t know? You could ask?”

“Ah." Kakashi scratched at his chin, recalling the disgusted look Iruka had given him the last time Kakashi had wandered by, his latest copy of Icha Icha in his face. “I think he’d take your request more seriously than mine.”

“Wait." Sakura held up her hands. “You want Iruka-sensei to teach _you_ tags and seals?” She raised a brow at him. “Can’t you just visit the secret library the Hokage has for such things? You’re Kakashi-sensei. Surely they’d just let you in, no big deal?”

“Thank you for the praise, Sakura-chan.” Kakashi smiled. She gave him her best dead-eyed look. “But alas, the best seal techniques are hidden even from my eyes.”

“What? But why?”

Kakashi sighed. “It’s complicated. That’s why I want to talk to Iruka-sensei. He might have the knowledge right inside his pretty little head.”

“You sound like you’re plotting something evil." Sasuke eyed him warily, as he should. The kid was way better at not trusting others. He might make a great shinobi yet.

Kakashi smiled, “We’ll see, won’t we?”

All three students shuddered at the look on his face.

* * *

“You want what?” Iruka said, turning to Naruto who was leaning over his bowl of pork ramen, slurping it up like some vacuous monster.

“Tags!” Naruto said, grinning over at him. “You know seals and secret tag scroll-writing, right, sensei?”

“Er, yeah,” Iruka frowned, his own chopsticks paused over his bowl of ramen. “I suppose so.”

“So we wanna learn that stuff.”

“What exactly are you asking, Naruto?” Iruka said after a moment.

“Can you teach us scroll-writing and tag-making?” Naruto said. “Me and Sakura and Sasuke? Sasuke says he doesn’t want to but Kakashi-sensei is definitely going to make him.”

Iruka frowned. “Kakashi is involved?”

“Well, yeah.” Naruto looked at him. The boy had grown so much now that he almost sat at the same eye-level as Iruka. “Obviously. He’s my sensei too.”

“But shouldn’t he be training you?” Iruka said.

Naruto tilted his head, then grinned. “Iruka-sensei…” he sounded positively devilish. “I don’t think Kakashi-sensei _knows how_.”

Iruka paused, mind immediately grinding to a halt. “Really?”

“I know, right!” Naruto grinned. “He’s not so fancy with his ninja eyeball now, is he?” He snickered then bent down for another mouthful of ramen.

Iruka didn’t know what to think of the great Kakashi asking for training of any sort. Surely he knew how to make basic scrolls?

And surely he could ask Iruka directly and not go through Naruto?

Hmf. That Kakashi was a real pain in the ass sometimes. If it wasn’t his less-than-stellar treatment of the kids under his care, then it was the abysmal mission scrolls he’d hand in every week. The man was lazy and rude and upsettingly confident in spite of the previously listed personality defects. He was the sort of man who walked with a swagger, yet appeared nonchalant at the same time. Plus, he was always reading those pervy books in front of Naruto which, frankly, was asking for trouble.

And what if the great Hatake Kaakshi needed help writing scrollwork? Was Iruka dumb enough to believe that, or was this just another ploy to piss him off? Tons of people dismissed tags and scrollwork as being beneath them and ancient art not worth looking into. It’s why Iruka was able to make extra cash on the side with his explosive tags and such. The local supply store never had enough in stock anyway, so why shouldn’t he? It’s not like anybody cared about his family lineage. Reading and writing seals was as basic as kunai work yet only a handful of shinobi ever bothered to lean into the lore.

Iruka took his scrollwork seriously.

It was a technique passed down from his mother’s side of the family. She and her ancestors had been keepers of the ancient scroll techniques, beholden to the village elders and preserved for centuries. It wasn’t common knowledge that Iruka had very deep techniques though, considering how young he’d been when his mother died. But she’d still passed a lot onto him before the war, and he had her own notes that were left behind.

It was one of the only things about his mother that Iruka had been able to keep for himself. After so many years, even her face had started to fade from his memory, her voice growing distant, an echo of the past.

Every year he still visited the memorial stone and wished his parents hadn’t died, that he hadn’t been orphaned, but he knew now, as an adult responsible for the lives of so many young shinobi, that wishful thinking didn’t mend the past. One of the greatest things about family bloodlines was preserving knowledge beyond the individual. He was the last from his father and his mother’s lines. He was the only Umino left and so he’d been very stalwart in retaining and reflecting on the skills his parents had left in his care.

“Hm,” Iruka swirled his chopsticks through his noodles. “I’ll think about it.”

“Yesh!” Naruto said around a mouthful. He swallowed. “If you do teach us, then we’ll have your family secrets in us, sensei!”

Iruka shouldn’t have felt quite so taken with that thought. But if he was to pass on his mother’s knowledge, he wouldn’t mind it being to the benefit of Naruto and his friends.

Maybe this was a good thing in the end, sharing what he knew.

* * *

“That’s… not bad…” Iruka looked over Naruto’s shoulder.

Kakashi kept his amusement to himself. Naruto’s scrawling mess of ink was a horror show that was going leave scars on anyone who saw it.

“Let’s just get you a fresh roll, Naruto,” Iruka said lightly. “And I’m just gonna cancel out this chakra seal, in case it–er–somehow works.”

“And summons the actual devil,” Sakura murmured, sitting back and looking over her own artwork.

“I’m getting better, right?” Naruto looked up at Iruka with wide, earnest eyes. It was very sweet to see the relationship between them. Kakashi was getting a better sense of how Iruka succeeded where very few had with Naruto.

“Sasuke, what are you doing?” Iruka said, unrolling a fresh sheet of paper before tearing it off the end of the table they were borrowing in one of the work rooms in the shinobi training building. At least it was quiet in here.

“I don’t want to do this,” Sasuke said, smashing his brush into the paper before him.

“Hm." Iruka pulled the inked-up scroll paper away from Naruto and replaced it with the fresh sheet. He pinned the corners with metal weights. “Well, you don’t have to stay.”

Sasuke’s eyes flicked towards Kakashi who was lounging, legs propped up on a nearby table. He wavered, “I… will do one more.”

 _Good boy._ Kakashi smiled, turning the page of his book. Sasuke was a fucking nightmare to deal with but he wasn’t stupid.

“I’m surprised you all wanted lessons in scrollwork,” Iruka murmured. He watched Sakura work. Kakashi knew she was always the quicker learner, dipping her brush into the ink, dabbing it off, then pausing before laying down any fresh strokes. She understood at least that one line out of place could disrupt a seal and make it either useless or harmful in other ways.

“It’s cool,” Naruto said, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth. He had ink up his neck and on his left ear. Kakashi made a mental note to kill any chakra chains the idiot may have activated while working. He didn’t need the kid walking around like an accidental ticking time bomb.

“You do a lot of these, huh, sensei?” Sakura murmured, her brush moving carefully over the paper.

“I guess so,” Iruka said. He looked over their work, pointing out lines and strokes that needed fixing. “Make sure to connect this seal or else it will move to the next step. Every step in the chain is critical to completing the mark.”

“Do you also work the secret seals for the Hokage?” Sakura went on, just like Kakashi had hinted she should.

“Hmm." Iruka pursed his lips. “Sometimes.”

“Aren’t they, like, jounin-level?”

Iruka paused, “Some might think so.”

“Can chuunin even–“ Sakura went on.

“Anyone can work a seal if they have the training,” Sasuke muttered. “Naruto does kage-bunshin doesn’t he?” Sasuke still looked peeved that Naruto couldn’t teach that very same technique to him. It probably drove him nuts that Naruto had only retained the info of the jutsu and not the written notes themselves. Kakashi wasn’t certain Sasuke understood that no matter how much he tried to copy the signs for _kage-bunshin_ , he could never match the amount of chakra Naruto used to produce a hundred-plus clones. The kyuubi was doing the heavy lifting, after all.

“Yeah!” Naruto crowed.

“I guess." Sakura nodded, tapping the end of her brush handle against her chin. She glanced over at Kakashi. He ignored her. “But Iruka-sensei,” she said artfully. “How _does_ one learn security seals?”

Iruka inhaled slowly. “Um, well, I guess you’d first need the Godaime’s permission. Then you’d need to work with one of the shinobi that’s responsible for them.”

“Someone like you,” Sakura said innocently.

Iruka stared down at her. Then ever so slowly, his eyes drifted towards Kakashi who tried extra hard to look bored and busy, reading his dirty book.

“If someone wants to learn secret seals they need permission–“ he paused purposely, “–from the Godaime herself. End of story. There’s no point in asking further without her go-ahead.”

Sakura frowned. “Why so secretive?”

“Because they’re secret, obviously,” Sasuke muttered.

“Ne, secret work is great, important work, isn’t it, Iruka-sensei? People who work that stuff get to know a lot of cool stuff.” Naruto said, looping his brush in a wide arc across his paper.

“You’re just saying that because of that stupid shadow clone technique,” Sasuke said.

“Jealousy’s a bad look on you, Sasuke,” Naruto retorted. Sasuke bristled and went red in the face.

“We can take this outside and I’ll wipe the training grounds with your face,” he snapped.

“I bet you’d like that,” Naruto snorted, unconcerned. Kakashi was happy to see the blond had a least grown beyond the childish retort phase of their weirdly bizarre courtship. Maybe soon the two morons would fuck and get the tension over with so Kakashi could live a peaceful, teenage-hormone-free life.

Iruka was looking at Kakashi, so he lifted his copy of Icha Icha up higher to cover his face.

* * *

The rumour mill was a force to be reckoned with in Konoha.

Everyone knew that the jounin were the worst bunch of gossiping old maids in the entire village. The façade of being elite killing machines gave them all room to behave like degenerate fools during their downtime.

If a man was caught with his pants down in the South district at three PM, you can bet your next week’s pay it would be common knowledge in the North district by dinnertime. That was the thing about living in a village teeming with idle, listless shinobi: nothing was sacred. It was fun to dig up dirt on your friends. The best gossip always got the best laughs, after all. The worst gossip destroyed marriages, so–you know–give and take.

Iruka wondered if that was why Kakashi didn’t try to hide his Icha Icha collection, nor his propensity for not giving a shit. If he was blandly transparent about his doings around town, who would want to gossip about him?

Not that Iruka cared.

He watched Kakashi, who was leaning against the bar at The Watering Hole™.

“Why’s he even here?” he asked, sipping on the drink Kurenai had slid his way; it was fruity.

“Who, Kakashi?” Asuma asked, lighting up his cigarette. It was dark, the night sky clear of any clouds. The patio was bustling as always, shinobi packed to the walls. “He’s here sometimes.”

“Hm." Iruka sucked at his drink.

He wondered what intel the copy-nin was here to gather. Kakashi didn’t _do_ socials. He was just leaning there against the bar like it was nothing. Raidou was even pretending to enjoy his company. It was ridiculous.

Kakashi was tall, so he had to rest his hand on the bar top if he wanted to relax a little. Why didn’t he just sit down?

While Iruka watched, Kotetsu and Izumo appeared and clapped Kakashi on the back, like they too were surprised to see the copy-nin out and about. Iruka scowled. Since when was everyone so chummy with Kakashi?

Did people _gossip_ with Kakashi? That seemed slightly plausible. But surely more people gossiped _about_ him? Iruka only ever heard things about the man that made him want to tear his hair out. One popular rumour that made the rounds was that Kakashi had a secret harem in a tiny village north of Konoha because he didn’t want anyone in the village to know what he looked like under his mask, and if he wanted to get laid only the highest highs of secrecy could cover his ass from any such indiscretion.

A few more rumours revolved around his mental health, how he must be really messed up after all the ANBU and assassination work he’d done over the years. The fact he was made chuunin at six wasn’t helping the case of insanity against him. The guy had been out committing murder for far too long.

Then there were the rumours about his body. Anko always said she’d pay good money for evidence proving her theory that he had a tattoo on his ass. She believed it was a picture of a donkey, something he picked up while on a mission in Hidden Rain. Iruka wasn’t sure why a donkey specifically, but that didn’t seem to matter to Anko. Iruka idly wondered what she’d pay to know that Kakashi had a birthmark on his face, just beneath his lower lip. This sort of intel could earn him some big bucks, or possibly get him killed.

Kakashi said something and the other three shinobi burst out laughing.

“Is Kakashi funny?” Iruka turned back to Asuma. Asuma was giving him a funny look. “What?”

“Nothing,” Asuma said, hands up. “And yeah, he’s a funny guy. Can be.”

“Hm." Iruka sat back. He sipped at his drink. “What the hell is in this? It’s delicious.”

“Oh, that’s her pineapple, coconut and gin thing." Asuma sucked on his smoke and exhaled slowly. “She orders one every time she gets back from Hidden Sand.”

“Oh, she was in Sand?” Iruka blinked. Jeez, he was so out of the loop these days. He felt guilty about not staying in touch as regularly as he used to. Once upon a time he’d been right in the centre of the gossip, soaking up intel about the village from left and right.

“If it has chilli flakes and grapefruit, it means she killed a guy with a garrote,” Asuma said tonelessly, like some kind of Kurenai beverage soothsayer. He looked up. “Oh, hey. If it isn’t the great Sharingan Kakashi himself.”

Iruka twisted in his seat and looked right up at Kakashi, who was staring down at him.

“Yo." Kakashi eyed the drink in Iruka’s hands. The pineapple slices and twirly straw seemed to amuse him, going by the curve of his eye. “Asuma,” Kakashi said genially. “Iruka-sensei,” he drawled in a voice that made Iruka’s hair stand on end.

“Have a seat,” Asuma said.

“Uh, yeah." Iruka shifted over one chair so Kakashi wouldn’t have to do some weird ninja move to get across the table. Though the owners didn’t mind people walking on the furniture (a hazard of doing business with shinobi), it wasn’t really encouraged.

The man smelled nice. Iruka didn’t need to know that.

“How’re the brats?” Asuma said, sitting back, stretching his arm across the back of the chair beside him.

Iruka perked up. “Naruto?” He could hear himself and it wasn’t great.

Kakashi shrugged, slouching into his own chair like he’d been there for days. “They’re the same. Nothing too tragic has befallen them lately.” Iruka blinked. It was strange that Kakashi technically spent more time with Naruto than even Iruka these days. “Although." Kakashi folded his arms. “I’m fairly certain Sasuke is heading toward a truly magnificent meltdown any day now.”

“What odds are we talking?” Asuma said, stubbing out his cigarette. “Two days? A week?”

“You don’t bet on your trainees, do you?” Iruka said.

“Hey, no judgement." Asuma pointed a finger at him. “Judgement-free zone.”

Iruka turned to Kakashi. “What do you mean by ‘meltdown’?”

Kakashi shrugged. “Something about how Naruto is driving him crazy, about how frustrating it is to be shackled to him, getting dragged down, not enough A and B-rank missions, blah-blah, the usual.”

Iruka narrowed his eyes. “Are you joking?”

Kakashi shrugged, which was really getting old fast.

“Sasuke needs more one-on-one time,” Iruka said, sucking at his drink before he snapped. “Don’t you know anything?”

“Oh?” Kakashi said. “Why?”

“Because,” Iruka said, side-eyeing the jounin. “He’s just used to having a senior person focus their energy on him. He learns faster when someone shows him specifics.” Iruka put his drink down with a _clunk_. “Sakura does better when she watches other people practise first. They’re different learners. As their mentor you should be aware of this.”

“Hm, fascinating," Kakashi said, his eyelid drooping as he looked Iruka over.

“Oh, Kurenai is calling, excuse me,” Asuma got to his feet. He looked a little harried for some reason. Maybe Kurenai was mad about something? Iruka twisted to watch Asuma leave. Kurenai was grinning, waving Asuma closer.

“You were saying, sensei,” Kakashi said.

Iruka looked at him. Fuck. It was weird having all of the man’s attention on him. “Are you being serious? Is Sasuke in a bad place? Because the mental health services program has great success in helping the recruits. There’s different levels depending on experience and…er, past trauma.” God, just thinking about Sasuke’s life gave Iruka grey hair. “It’s not the senior level therapy the more elite shinobi need but it gets the job done. We all pay into that insurance for a reason.”

“Ah,” Kakashi said, leaning his cheek on his hand and resting his elbow on the table. “I don’t think he’s there quite yet. But I’ll keep that in mind.”

Iruka pursed his lips. “Well, as his sensei, it’s up to you to recommend proper professional help when he needs it. Lord knows that kid will never ask for it himself.”

“Mmm, yeah.”

Iruka twirled his glass between his hands.

“What else would you recommend, sensei?” Kakashi said. “Seeing as you know my team so well.”

Iruka flushed. “I’m not–that’s not–“

“I’m not being facetious, Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi said drolly. “I promise.”

“Well, I’m not–“ Iruka choked on his words. “–you really want to know?”

“Maa." Kakashi sighed and tilted his head to stare at the sky. “I’m not, let’s say, socially apt. Not with kids, anyway. I’m supposed to break them in, make them work harder than they have to so nothing creeps up behind them and stabs them, you know?”

“They’ve been your team for four years,” Iruka said with an arched brow. How was this guy pretending to not know how his own shinobi were doing? This wasn’t a ploy to talk to Iruka, was it?

“Regardless,” Kakashi sighed, eye rolling down to stare at Iruka. “I’m interested to know what you’d do in my place.”

Iruka scratched at his nose. What the hell was this? Surely the famous copy-nin was messing with him?

He looked up and caught Genma and Raidou watching them from over by the bar. Genma looked at Raidou and grinned. What were _they_ up to?

Iruka refocused on Kakashi. “Well, what’s Sasuke’s latest problem?” He waved both hands skyward. “Aside from the horrifying childhood trauma that haunts his every waking moment, of course. Outside of that.”

Kakashi smiled under his mask. Iruka thought about that wolfish grin he’d seen before and wondered if anyone else had ever seen it. “Aside from that?” Kakashi murmured. “Sasuke’s not very open, as you know, so it’s been a lot of me just poking and prodding when he’s not paying attention.” He was smiling under the mask. “Naruto never shuts up about how great you are, of course. And Sasuke doesn’t seem to disagree. I figured you might have a better grasp on their–ah–emotional aspects..”

“Ah, well,” Iruka scratched the bridge of his nose. _Phew the alcohol was kicking in already._ “I spent a lot of time with them, I suppose. At the academy, I mean. When they were young.”

“Was Naruto an actual nightmare?” Kakashi said.

Iruka bristled, “He’s not–“

“I’m kidding,” Kakashi said. “I _know_ he was.”

Iruka would be an overly defensive fool to pretend that teaching a very young Naruto hadn’t aged him prematurely. “I heard he once snuck into the Sandaime’s personal chamber to try and prank him.”

Iruka’s eyes widened, “You heard about that? Oh, my god, that was… jeez, ten years ago? A decade? Ah, I feel so old!”

Kakashi chuckled. It was a nice sound, something Iruka would never have expected from the man so famous for keeping mum.

“You’re hardly old, sensei,” Kakashi murmured.

Iruka sighed, “I feel it.”

“Well, don’t all who work with children feel aged beyond their years? Kurenai seems to think so. She believes it’s why Genma has retained his youthful good looks. No kids to train.”

Iruka snorted, “Please. Genma’s ‘youthful’ good looks come from genetics and a really good skincare routine.”

Kakashi snorted, which made Iruka grin.

“I didn’t know you had a sense of humour,” Kakashi said.

“And I didn’t know you had a personality,” Iruka retorted.

“Well,” Kakashi sat up and leaned in little closer, making Iruka’s heart thump slowly behind his ribs. “Aren’t we both just full of surprises?”

Iruka swallowed. Oh dear. What was happening?

* * *

“Naruto?” Sasuke frowned at Kakashi. “You lost him again?”

Kakashi scratched at his chin and gave Sasuke a once-over. He’d come across the Uchiha in the Eastern food market carrying bags of food to, presumably, take home to the empty Uchiha compound he called home. He had pomegranates, miscellaneous fowl, a knotted handful of dried herbs and what looked to be a gallon of detergent. Kakashi wondered idly if perhaps he needed to run welfare checks on his team, considering two out of the three of them were grown orphans living on their own. It said a lot about Sakura’s well-adjusted outlook on life that having two involved parents in her life has set her on the path to a good adulthood.

“Yes, Naruto,” Kakashi said. “Blond, loud, dipped in day-glo orange. You might be familiar with him?”

Sasuke made a face, which constituted of one pout, a ‘tch’ and three forehead wrinkles. “I haven’t seen that idiot since we got back.”

“Hm." Kakashi hummed. “Well, where do you think he might be?”

Sasuke shrugged. “That dobe disappears into the woodwork sometimes.” He peered up at Kakashi suspiciously. “What’s up? Did he do something?”

Kakashi shrugged lazily. “Iruka-sensei is looking for him.”

This seemed to only intensify the suspicion. Sasuke looked aside, thinking. “He’s hiding because he has chores, I bet.”

“Possibly." Kakashi tilted his head to one side. He wasn’t clear on the details. He only knew that Naruto was supposed to check-in with the sensei that morning and hadn’t shown up. He also now knew that Iruka looked very fetching in a pair of shorts and tank top when taking time off from the academy. Kakashi recalled the strong brown biceps that were perhaps a bit more buff than Kakashi had expected on a man who spent his waking hours wrestling children off ceilings.

Iruka had seemed put out by Naruto’s notable absence and maybe, just maybe, Kakashi wanted to see fewer instances of such a sad face; or perhaps he wanted to do something nice. Nobody could be sure.

Sasuke sighed louder this time and scrubbed a hand through his hair. The kid was getting taller. Pretty soon he would hit Iruka’s height. What a horrifying thought.

“Okay, if he’s hiding, he’s probably up there." Sasuke pointed up and away. Kakashi followed his finger, frowning.

“The West district? Naruto doesn’t even live there.”

“No,” Sasuke hissed. “The monument.”

Kakashi blinked and refocused his eyes on the distant mountain that overlooked Konoha. The faces of the Hokages loomed over them, casting shadows in the brilliant midday sun.

“He’s on the monument?” Kakashi said slowly. Squinting, he held up his hand to block the sun.

“It’s one of the only places where Iruka-sensei can’t find him." Sasuke sighed loudly. Kakashi didn’t ask how Sasuke knew all of this. Not that he wasn’t ever going to poke the kid about it later, just that there was a time and a place to cause the last remaining Uchiha some gentle anguish about his fascination with his most hated/beloved team mate.

“Hn." Kakashi smiled, “thank you, Sasuke. I’ll let Iruka know you helped.”

“Oh god." Sasuke held up his hands. “Please don’t. I like it better when he never thinks of me and focuses all that energy on Naruto.”

“Hm?” Kakashi raised his visible eyebrow. “Iruka-sensei is scary, nah?”

“Obviously,” Sasuke hissed, looking around like his bad-ass reputation was tainted by the mere admission. “I could take him in a fight–“

Kakashi highly doubted it.

“–but we all learned years ago that if Naruto takes the bulk of Iruka’s attention, the rest of us can get away with more shit, okay?”

 _Interesting._ Kakashi grinned. “Survival of the smartest. Not bad, Sasuke-kun.”

“Anyway." Sasuke flicked his hair out of his eyes. He needed a haircut, it was getting to shampoo hair model lengths.“If you find the idiot, remind him he’s still got my extra hitai-ate. He needs to give it back.”

“I will pass on your message if I find him,” Kakashi murmured, knowing full well he wasn’t going to do any such thing. He pulled out his favourite copy of Icha Icha from his flak jacket’s inner pocket. Sasuke’s lip curled when he saw the orange book cover.

 _Hm,_ maybe it reminded him of his pervy associations with another dirty orange time-waster.

* * *

“You again,” Iruka said when the shadow moved over his notes. He looked up to find Kakashi perched in his window frame.

“Yo." Kakashi saluted. “May I?”

Iruka sighed and sat up, stretching his back. “Yeah, sure.”

Kakashi jumped down to the floor and made literally no sound. Kakashi came around the kitchen counter that jutted out to separate it from the living room. He leaned over the scroll in front of Iruka.

“Huh,” he said, taking in the thick, black brushwork, the ink stone, the intricate markings. “So you’re the one who makes the ANBU summoning scrolls?”

“Uh." Iruka cricked his neck.“Some of them.”

“Very interesting, sensei,” Kakashi murmured. “You have excellent brushwork.”

“Thanks?” Iruka seemed put off by the praise.

“I used many of these back in the day,” Kakashi murmured.

“When you were ANBU?” Iruka’s eyes flicked to Kakashi’s left shoulder where he accurately guessed the ANBU tattoo sat. “I thought ANBU couldn’t talk about their work?”

Kakashi smiled, “Actually, ANBU cannot talk about missions or secrets. Scrolls are not secrets. Their contents are.”

“Right,” Iruka didn’t sound convinced.

“I’ve located our resident ramen-sucking monster,” Kakashi said, leaning his hip against the counter. “You were looking for him, yes?”

Iruka looked up, his thick ponytail flopping as he moved. “Naruto? Oh, where?”

Kakashi pointed out the window. Iruka’s apartment was much closer to the monument than the food market, so the shape of the Hokages’ faces loomed even closer.

“What?” Iruka frowned.

“If you stare really hard, you can see a tiny orange fleck atop Yondaime’s left eyebrow,” Kakashi said softly.

Iruka peered out the window, then his face softened. He hopped off the stool he’d been sitting on and went around the jutting countertop to lean out the window properly. He was barefoot, Kakashi noticed.

“Oh,” Iruka murmured. “I think I see him.” He turned back to Kakashi. “He’s hiding, isn’t he?”

“That’s what Sasuke believes, yes,” Kakashi said. He winced internally after revealing his source. He could blame Iruka’s lovely ankles for the lapse in judgement.

Iruka’s brows furrowed upwards in the middle. He really did care for the kid, didn’t he?

“I was wondering,” Iruka said, voice gentler now. “Wondering where he went when he had bad days.”

“Naruto has bad days?” Kakashi folded his arms over his chest. “I find that hard to believe.” He was fibbing, of course, but intel-gathering wasn’t for those walking the straight and narrow.

“Not often." Iruka scratched at the scar that ran across his nose. “But sometimes…he used to just bury himself in his apartment. I’d find him in the dark, just half asleep, not having bathed or eaten in a week. His bad days can be worse than most.”

“Ah." Kakashi nodded slowly, understanding now why Naruto was sitting on one of Konoha’s highest, most unreachable points. He didn’t think he’d need to tell Iruka that the kid was hiding because Iruka had, in the past, been able to root him out, make him participate in life more. Iruka was a smart cookie, he’d figure that out on his own.

He may have already, going by the twist in his lips. He looked concerned, frowning, a little more bent out of shape than when Kakashi had seen him that morning.

This sensei had a lot of heart, a lot of attachment to the children under his care. That was obvious. It took a special sort of shinobi to put off becoming an active shinobi for a career bringing up the youth of the village. With so many damaged and tortured souls around every corner, it was good that people like Iruka took it upon themselves to give a shit about the kids. Kakashi wasn’t sure his own academy teachers had ever been so fervently dedicated to their jobs. It wasn’t until the formation of his own genin team all those years ago…

Kakashi sighed and rubbed at his nose. “Do you want me to go fetch him?” he offered.

Iruka looked up at him, blinking in surprise. “Oh, no, that’s okay.” He turned his head to look out the window. “You think he always chooses that spot on the monument?”

Kakashi came around to lean against the counter beside Iruka. Getting closer to Iruka was becoming more of a need these days than a want. “Not sure,” he said honestly.

“Up there, on the fourth,” Iruka said softly, almost a whisper.

“Yeah,” Kakashi looked down. The implication wasn’t lost on him either.“I know.”

* * *

“Iruka-sensei." Naruto was pouting from his spot on his balcony railing. Iruka had an armful of wet clothing. It pained him to see the state Naruto lived in and the laundry room Naruto had to deal with just to get his clothes clean. It was clearly a derelict death-trap judging by the stains, unearthly smell, and scorch marks all along the floor and walls. Naruto couldn’t use it, it was an abomination. So Iruka had made it his mission to help with Naruto’s weekly (sometimes monthly) chores whenever he could. Naruto had only just gotten back from a trip with Kurenai and her team, so his laundry and his tiny apartment were out of control.

They’d bagged and thrown out all the old ramen cups, and collected the many stray pairs of underpants and tracksuits littering the place.

Iruka was busy clipping Naruto’s wet laundry onto the DIY clothesline he’d erected years ago when Naruto had first moved into this building. It was one of the worst neighbourhoods, but within walking distance of Iruka’s place, so it was marginally better than the last rat-infested hellhole he’d been living in before. The state funding for orphans didn’t exactly give Naruto much to work with in terms of rent money. Now that he was at least a fully-fledged ninja, Naruto could move up in the world a little. Iruka was hoping that sooner rather than later, a rental unit would open up in _his_ building and Naruto could move in. Fingers crossed.

“Yes, Naruto,” Iruka said around a mouthful of clothes pegs, “what’s up?” There was obviously something on the boy’s mind. He’d been muttering to himself all afternoon, his face all scrunched up and pensive.

“Ne, sensei,” Naruto said. “I want to ask you something, but you have to promise you won’t get mad.”

Iruka quirked a brow at the boy. He continued to hang Naruto’s hideous tiger-striped boxers on the line. Why did he insist on buying such trashy clothing? Had he learned nothing about putting on a calm, mature face for the world from Iruka after all these years?

“Okay,” Iruka said, tugging the last clothes peg free and snapping it into place. He stepped back and looked over his handiwork. Give it a couple hours in the blazing Konoha sun and everything would be desert dry. He wiped his hands together.

“People have been talking,” Naruto sighed. He was now sitting cross-legged on the balcony railing, putting his chakra bonding to the test.

“Talking?” Iruka put his hands on his hips and stared at his favourite, if most annoying, former student. “About?”

“Ehhh." Naruto scratched at the whisker-marks on his cheek. “About you…” his voice trailed off into a mumbling mess of vowels.

“What was that? Speak up, Naruto,” Iruka said.

“You and Kakashi-sensei!” Naruto blurted out in a rush.

Iruka frowned. “What? What about us?”

“Please don’t make me say it,” Naruto whined.

“Naruto, is this gossip or serious business?” Iruka tapped his foot. The last piece of gossip Iruka had heard about Kakashi had been a rumour that Mei in accounting caught him undressing in the hospital after getting chakra-healing for his latest mission injuries. That one really got the rumour mill spinning because people were still obviously obsessed with what Kakashi looked like under his uniform. Mei really only caught a glimpse, she said, but apparently he had a nice ass. Iruka didn’t need to see the man naked to know that. He was still curious about the donkey tattoo, though. Mei couldn’t confirm its existence because she’d only gotten a vague glimpse through a wispy curtain which really brought to light her mildly unethical behaviour in regards to patient confidentiality.

“Ehhh." Naruto wavered, steeled himself, hands on the rail between his legs, and blurted, “Sasuke-bastard said he heard from Saruno-san that Hinata said that Kiba saw–“

“Naruto, focus!” Iruka said, a vein pulsing at his forehead. He couldn’t murder the Yondaime’s only child. That would be too much of a waste after all these years of hard, back-breaking work to keep Naruto alive.

“–that you and Kakashi-sensei are doing Oiroke-no-jutsu together!”

Iruka blinked, mouth falling open. “Oiroke–? Huh? That idiotic transformation jutsu you keep pulling?” Iruka fumed. “The one that you taught _Konohamaru?_ ”

“You know what I mean! Sexy-no-jutsu! Naked stuff!” Naruto wailed. “You and Kakashi-sensei! Is it true? Please say it isn’t! He’s a pervert, sensei, and you deserve better. He reads Jiraiya-sama’s dirty books and I read one once and it was a lot, sensei.” Naruto paled. “Too much.”

“You _read_ Icha Icha Paradise?” Iruka squawked. “Naruto! You know that’s not for–“

“Well, it was Icha Icha Violence, actually,” Naruto cut himself off at the twitching in Iruka’s cheek. “Sensei!” Naruto stared at him with his wide blue eyes. “Kakashi ero-sensei! Tell me you aren’t sexy-no-jutsuing with him.”

Iruka made a face. “No, Naruto, I am not. I am not… whatever you think that means, with him.”

“Okay, but Sasuke says he heard you guys are–“ He made an obscene gesture with both hands that made Iruka want to burst into flames.

“No!” Iruka yelled. “I would never! Kakashi would never! That’s not–we’re not even–“ he cut himself off with a strangled gurgle.

“Oh thank goodness." Naruto deflated, hands on his chest. He wobbled precariously on the railing before righting himself. “I don’t think I could win against him if I had to defend your virtue, sensei.”

“Virtue?” Iruka smacked Naruto upside the head.

“Ow!”

“Where are you getting this language from? I told you sex is a serious topic and we don’t use outdated sexist or harmful terminology if we want to treat it seriously. _Virtue._ Honestly, Naruto!”

“Aaah, sensei!” Naruto wailed.

“I’m so annoyed now,” Iruka huffed. He tried not to think of the implications of what Naruto had just told him. If there was a rumour making the rounds about him and Kakashi…he swallowed. That was absurd. Who would even believe such tripe?

God, what if his friends heard? What if _Kakashi_ heard? Iruka felt his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. Kakashi would laugh about it, probably. Who would ever think they were messing around together? Ugh. It was one part disgusting, one part disappointing.

“Come on!” Iruka barked, picking up the woven laundry basket. “We’re scrubbing this place top-to-bottom! No time to be lazy, Naruto! You’re almost an adult, act like one!”

“Sensei, noooo,” Naruto wailed until Iruka snagged him by the shirtfront and dragged him inside.

* * *

Iruka made it look simple, but Kakashi knew it wasn’t.

Tsunade had given Kakashi a look when he’d requested access to blood seals, and gave him a different sort of look when he’d specifically requested training from Iruka.

“Good luck with whatever you think you can accomplish there,” she had said, waving him out of her office.

And now he was inside Iruka’s tiny apartment, sitting cross-legged and barefoot on the floor, a massive scroll sitting between them. It looked just like any other jutsu, inked out intricately in radiating scripture.

Iruka was explaining how it differed.

“So, blood seals aren’t detectable, for obvious reasons,” Iruka said. He pointed to the four compass points used in this particular seal. “Looks like a standard summoning, right?”

Kakashi nodded. He felt quite comfortable in just his ninja blacks which matched Iruka’s navy ones. “Looks like one I’d use for my ninken.”

“Do you make your own?” Iruka looked at him with interest in his brown eyes.

“I do,” Kakashi murmured. “I had an excellent teacher.”

“You di–?“ Iruka caught himself. “Oh, of course.” He nodded slowly. “The fourth.”

“Yup,” Kakashi said. It was something that was always appended to Kakashi’s personal history. That Minato only ever had one genin team was unique not only because he’d died so young, but also because Kakashi was the last remaining member of that team. It was always something people hated to recall whenever Kakashi’s history came up. “He was a big fan of summonings, as you can imagine." Kakashi managed a smile. “And seals.”

“Flying thunder god,” Iruka murmured.

“That was one, yes,” Kakashi murmured, remembering the first time he’d seen his mentor use the seal. Minato had always been that much stronger, that much better than anyone Kakashi had ever known. “I like to keep my seal skills in ship-shape.”

“Of course." Iruka nodded slowly, looking back at the seal in front of them. “Well, this one is simple, but clever.”

“It’s got a blood seal,” Kakashi said, already knowing the answer. He’d specifically asked the Godaime for a scroll from the archives, something to work on without forcing Iruka to make one up. She must have really trusted them both to even let the scroll out of her secure storage.

“Yes,” Iruka said, “but you can’t always tell just by looking at it head-on. Here, let me show you.”

He got to his feet, Kakashi following. Iruka nudged the scroll, opening it completely. He took Kakashi’s elbow and walked him to the shorter end. “Sometimes, you need to lay it out and look at it from a different angle. He crouched down and stared down the length of the scroll. Kakashi matched his pose. He had removed his hitai-ate earlier, hoping the sharingan might be of use here. So far, nothing sprang to life.

“Hm." Iruka got up and walked to the other end of the scroll, he squatted down and smiled “Here.”

Kakashi got up and went over to crouch down beside him. Iruka pointed. “This angle, if you see the outer rings? If you lower yourself, you’ll notice there are vertical marks from certain characters that start to line up.”

Kakashi squinted. “Ah, yes. It looks like a horizontal rule with hatch marks at measured intervals.” The hatch marks further away were much longer so that at such a low angle, they would shorten and appear identical to the closer marks.

“Right, that’s how you know this requires a blood seal to unlock. Every village will have its own secretive measures, its own codes, I suppose. This one is a Konoha specialty.”

“Hn." Kakashi got up and moved back to his original spot, sitting cross-legged across from Iruka. “And your mother’s family, they were experts in this?”

“Yes." Iruka settled into his position, the scroll laid out between them. Iruka never talked about his parents. Not many who lost family in the war did. Kakashi wondered if it was fortunate that he hadn’t known his mother and that his father had killed himself before the war even began. He still wasn’t sure if there was any advantage from either angle. Probably not.

“So, there are five basic hand signs to activate most blood seals. You just need to know the village’s preferred finger placement after you’ve found the sequence.”

He sat, back straight and held his fingers together in the first seal. Kakashi knew Iruka wasn’t going to explain. Not with the sharingan right in front of him. It would be a waste of energy when Kakashi could just record the whole procedure and play it back later.

Iruka’s hands flashed through the hand signs, his eyes closed as he aligned his chakra.

With the sharingan activated, Kakashi was able to see how Iruka’s chakra flowed around him and down his arms, terminating at his fingertips. He had excellent control and pinpoint balance.

“Okay, now here’s the tricky part,” Iruka murmured. He brought his index finger to his mouth and bit into the skin, making it bleed. Kakashi watched as he dabbed the bleeding fingertip against the other four on that hand. Bringing his other hand up, he touched all ten fingertips together and held them for a second as the chakra bled into them, balling tightly where they met. Then he pulled his hands apart, his fingertips glowing with flickering chakra. He pressed his hands flat to the scroll, fingers settling into certain pre-defined spots. Kakashi watched, fascinated, as the intricate linework seemed to soak up his blood, turning the symbols red, and flowing like wet ink along the tributaries of the many-layered seal. A lot of the original ink markings faded away, leaving behind blank paper in some spots. A new series of radiating red lines and swirls appeared, creating a new seal, a new message.

Iruka’s chakra was forcing the ink back and drawing the hidden seal’s markings forward, his blood making it possible.

After a minute or so, he pulled back and gasped for air.

“Oh!” Iruka exhaled sharply. “There we go.”

Kakashi blinked, kind of awestruck by the brightness in Iruka’s eyes and the sheen on his skin. It took a very stable yet delicate control of chakra to do such intricate work. Kakashi was definitely caught off guard. Had Iruka always been this competent, this cool and collected when performing the unlocking of dangerous, secretive seals? Had this talented chuunin just been sitting on this knowledge his whole life? When and how had he learned it?

He looked down at the scroll. “It’s an advanced fire jutsu,” Kakashi murmured, taking it all in. It was one of the most intricate seals he’d ever seen. It tapped all seven of the chakra points and required an advanced understanding of fire jutsu and how to control it.

Iruka wiped at his brow. He looked at his fingers, but they were completely clean, no trace of blood on them. “Phew, it was only a minor blood seal.”

Kakashi closed his eyes and sighed. Of course this guy hadn’t been sure of what type of blood seal would unlock this. Why would he be? These things were kept under lock and key for a reason. “A minor seal, huh?” he murmured. “I’ve heard of big ones that demand a lot more than a pinprick of blood.”

“Yeah.” Iruka chuckled like it was no big deal, “That’s the thing: you can’t tell by looking. Some scrolls definitely have tougher security measures inked into them.”

That was why blood seals were less common and only used in extreme cases. Shinobi could literally be drained dry if the seal required–no–demanded it.

Kakashi pressed his hand along the paper, admiring the details of the jutsu laid bare before them. “It’s some variation on the Katon Goukakyuu-no-jutsu." Kakashi chewed on his bottom lip. “This is not a small little seal we unlocked, Iruka.”

“An Uchiha clan specialty,” Iruka murmured softly.

Kakashi nodded. He pulled his face mask down, letting the fabric pool at his neck. He read the scroll over and mouthed the words, his hands doing weak impressions of the seals needed. “Ah, this is definitely unique, sensei. I can see why it was locked away.” You could raze an entire village to the ground with something this big, if you had the chakra and desire for it, of course.

“Yeah." Iruka frowned down at the scroll. “This one… it’s not something anyone should ever need.” He faltered then glanced up at Kakashi guiltily.

Maybe Iruka couldn’t memorize this just by looking at it, but he knew Kakashi could, and had already done so, thanks to the sharingan.

“Sorry,” Iruka said softly. “You probably don’t want something like this either.”

That wasn’t strictly true. It was, admittedly, a bit outside of Kakashi’s repertoire to collect nation-ending jutsus, but what could they do about that now? What was done was done.

“Well, no one needs to know,” Kakashi said. He had a pretty decent lie ready to roll for when Tsunade asked about what they’d unlocked. Here’s to his luck that she didn’t know already. “Show me, sensei, how to seal it back up again,” Kakashi said with a smile, his eyes crinkling. “We don’t want to return it to Tsunade all unwrapped like this. You know how admin gets when I hand in shoddy paperwork.”

Iruka made a choking sound, seeing the jab at his work ethic for what it was.

“Maybe if you weren’t so repeatedly terrible at handing in your reports on schedule, the _admins_ wouldn’t give you such a hard time!”

Kakashi grinned and definitely did not miss the way Iruka’s eyes fell to his exposed lips. “Maybe I want the admin to give me a hard time?”

Iruka’s mouth fell open and he flapped his jaw for a bit before sucking up his fake annoyance as an affront to Kakashi’s brazenness. “Maybe you should learn that that’s no way to get any kind of attention, Kakashi-san.”

“Hmm,” Kakashi hummed. “Maybe you’re right. I should probably just have someone else hand in my reports. After all, I don’t need to be there in person after every mission. I should send Sasuke.”

Iruka huffed and sat upright, his cute ponytail fluffing as he tilted his head from side-to-side. “Now don’t go shirking your jounin duties!” he said sharply. “You need to set a better example for your team.”

Kakashi really liked this Iruka, this playful but restrained version of the man who was continuously giving Naruto a hard time.

“All right,” he said slowly, languidly. “Then maybe the right admin in question should supply me a timetable of his work schedule at the mission desk so I never miss his very valuable feedback on my shoddy work.”

“Psh,” Iruka tutted. “Like you don’t already know exactly what days and what times I’m working every week. I know you’re not that shitty a shinobi. Nice try though.”

Kakashi was sure his amusement was clearly visible on his face and he didn’t make any attempt to hide it. He’d come around to the fact that he liked this man; this bright, warm, amusingly angry, sweet, kind man. He just hadn’t realized quite how much.

* * *

“Take the extra onigiri!” Iruka said firmly.

“I can’t!” Naruto wailed from behind his armful of stacked takeout containers.

“I’ll take them,” Sakura said, hands out to received Iruka’s homemade food.

“Okay, good,” Iruka said. “Sasuke, do you–“

“No, Iruka-sensei,” the Uchiha said drily. “I don’t have any more…” he looked aside, “room in my fridge.”

“Okay, fine,” Iruka huffed as they bustled out his front door. “Well, get home safe you guys.”

“Thank you for dinner, sensei,” Sakura smiled and waved. She pushed at Naruto’s back.

“Thanks, Iruka-sensei!” Naruto yelled in his outside voice, which was also his inside voice. Iruka winced, hoping his neighbours were accustomed to Naruto’s excessive use of volume. They should be, it’s not like Naruto hadn’t been coming over every other week for the past six years.

He watched them stumble down the open balcony walkway. Once they turned onto the stairwell and disappeared, he sighed and shut the door.

“Well,” he murmured. “That went okay, right?”

“I think so,” Kakashi said from where he stood, eyeing the books on Iruka’s bookcase. “You have a limited edition of the Tales of Motogai?”

Iruka wandered through his kitchen and started stacking up the empty plates and cups. “Yeah, it was my dad’s. I haven’t read it.”

“Huh,” Kakashi murmured, while continuing to peruse the shelves. “I read it when I was quite young. It was… profound.”

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Iruka said.

Kakashi turned on his heel, his eye on Iruka.

“Did you enjoy dinner?” Iruka said, folding his arms and leaning back against the counter.

“I did,” Kakashi said and sloped over to the kitchen. “I always suspected you might be a mother hen about feeding others. You outdid yourself.”

Iruka snorted. “You learn fast that Naruto can eat his own weight in steamed buns, so I figured if Sasuke was with him, and you, then I’d best make a bit more than usual.”

“And Sakura?”

“She eats like a normal person,” Iruka sighed. “I don’t know how she manages to be so competent around you three.”

Kakashi shrugged. “She keeps them in line.”

Iruka had also been very intrigued to see how Kakashi ate when he had that mask to contend with. “You use a blur jutsu, huh?” He murmured, eyes on said mask. “When you eat?”

“Ah,” Kakashi’s eye curved as he smiled. “You’ve figured me out.”

“Well, it’s not complicated,” Iruka said as Kakashi approached. “Though I’d have thought your own team would have seen your face by now.”

“Hmm,” Kakashi was beside him now, one hand pressed to the edge of the counter, propping him up at an angle. “I think they gave up a long time ago. Most people do.”

“And yet you showed me your face so easily.”

Kakashi tilted his head and blinked at Iruka. “Did I?”

“Yeah, when you climbed onto my damn windowsill,” Iruka huffed. Kakashi’s proximity was making his heart skip a beat again. It always happened when he got too near. It was as if a warning siren went off inside Iruka’s head, a signal to not go any farther, not get any closer to the man.

“Ah,” Kakashi chuckled. “Well, it is you, Iruka.”

Iruka wasn’t an idiot. He’d noticed the second Kakashi had dropped the sensei honorific attached to his name. It sent a thrill up his spine whenever Kakashi called him by his first name only. Like they were friends.

If Iruka’s romantic teenage heart would relax for a minute, he’d be happy with just being friends. But this was Hatake Kakashi, the legendary Kakashi of the one thousand justus; the man of mystery, the man with no attachments. He was notoriously difficult to befriend and–Iruka could confirm for anyone who ever asked (though they never did)–notoriously handsome to boot.

“You’re easy to be around,” Kakashi said.

“Is that what it is?” Iruka laughed. “Not for my discount explosive tags.”

Kakashi tilted his head, “Those are a nice bonus. You do make excellent tags.”

“Oh, high praise from the copy-nin himself,” Iruka smiled.

Kakashi shrugged, “I don’t have any interest in making my own. Although you really should be charging more.”

“That’s what Asuma says,” Iruka sighed. “I don’t see why I should. I earn enough at work. It’s not like I have anything to buy with the extra cash.”

“Naruto mentioned you had plans to buy a bigger home,” Kakashi said.

Iruka waved him off, “Ah, at one point I wanted to, but I don’t need to anymore.”

“Because Naruto’s older?” Kakashi asked.

Iruka froze. Kakashi watched him, unmoving from his spot leaning on his arm.

“I–well,” Iruka shrugged, feeling embarrassed. “I guess.”

“You know he loves you,” Kakashi said. “You are, for all intents and purposes, the only parental figure in his life worth looking up to.”

“I–“ Iruka swallowed. “I know.” He looked down at the floor. “It kinda turned out that way, huh?”

“Well, if I may be so bold, it’s not for nothing that he looks up to you. If you were to buy a larger home and perhaps offer up a room to him, I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

Iruka exhaled sharply, “You’ve been poking around too much, Kakashi-san.” He glanced up at the other man. “This stuff isn’t important right now.”

Kakashi hummed, his voice a low thrum up Iruka’s spine. “I think it is.”

Iruka’s cheeks flushed. The two of them watched one another for a moment, the air thick and stifling between them. Iruka was usually really good at figuring out if someone was interested in him. He’d had years to figure people out and usually, interest was palpable. Kakashi though? Complete fucking mystery.

Was him joining his team at Iruka’s place for a dinner just done out of courtesy, or something more? Had it been any other person, Iruka would know by now if there was some kind of intent here. The chemistry was very real for Iruka, but was it the same for Kakashi?

“If you sell at a higher price,” Kakashi said, breaking Iruka’s train of thought, “you could get better window insurance.”

Iruka blinked, then laughed.

“Oh, is that so? Why? So you can keep climbing into my kitchen with no warning? Oh,” he blinked, remembering something, “I got the gift you left me,” he smiled. “Thanks for the hint.” He’d opened his fridge one day to find a small ceramic jug shaped like a milk carton. Why he hadn’t been more concerned with Kakashi sneaking into his apartment was left for another day.

Kakashi shrugged and stood up properly, “I wondered if your drinking straight from the carton meant you either couldn’t afford, or didn’t know of the existence of milk jugs. So I fixed the problem myself.”

“Uh huh,” Iruka smirked. “A real problem-over. Thanks.”

Kakashi was closer, radiating a now familiar warmth and scent that Iruka could probably place in a crowded room. Kakashi wouldn’t like that. He prided himself on be indiscernible, invisible, the perfect shinobi.

Kakashi pulled his mask down, revealing the lower half of his face. He was still astonishingly handsome, again and again. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t he have two missing teeth and a sole patch? Come to think of it, did he even shave? Iruka was deathly curious. Would Kakashi grow in grey hair, or some sort of variant, like how Raidou grew a red beard that contrasted with his brown hair.

He licked his lips and Kakashi’s eye followed his tongue. Iruka pulled it back behind his teeth, immediately embarrassed. What was he _doing?_

“You’re welcome,” Kakashi said.

Iruka blinked, “For what?”

Kakashi smiled, showing off his perfectly straight teeth. “The milk jug, sensei.”

“Oh, right, yes,” Iruka could feel the heat climbing up his neck and over his face.

“My, you do blush easily,” Kakashi said, “Unexpected from someone so well trained in ninja basics, but lovely nonetheless.”

“ _Lovely?_ ” Iruka spurted, “Don’t talk about me like I’m some–some rose in a flower garden.”

“Ah?” Kakashi pursed his lips and frowned and _wow_ he looked somehow even more attractive? How was this fair? “I don’t see you as any sort of flora, Iruka-san.”

“Well, good,” Iruka huffed and folded his arms. “I get tired of people assuming that because I’m chuunin I must be some wilting damsel. The amount of jounin over the years who thought their pick-up lines would work if they referred to me as something soft and stupid–I could fill an ocean with them.”

“With jounin? Or pick-up lines?” Kakashi asked, genuinely interested.

Iruka swallowed. God, now he’d implied that he was some hot piece of ass that hundreds of people in the village lusted after. “Does it matter?” he hissed.

“Perhaps,” Kakashi said drolly, mouth quirking up on one side. “After all, if my pick-up lines have been used by others then that would be shamefully lazy on my part.” He stepped into Iruka’s personal space. Had Kakashi always seemed so tall? He was maybe only an inch taller than Iruka but the leanness and the hair made him seem so much more. Iruka swallowed, heart thumping loudly in his chest. “On the other hand,” Kakashi said, pushing his hit-ate up, eyelids drooping as he looked down at Iruka, wetting his own lips with his tongue. “If we’re talking number of jounin in particular who have made moves on you, well. That’s a completely different issue, isn’t it?”

“I-is it?” Iruka said, blinking up into one paler-than-expected grey eye and one rich red one. Iruka wondered if he covered up the sharingan to divert questions away from its existence, or because he clearly couldn’t deactivate it like Sasuke could, and perhaps it pained him to keep it open.

“Well, yeah,” Kakashi grinned. “I know every jounin in the village. Are they all now my romantic rivals? Do I need to slit their throats to get them out of the way? It would be annoying and time-consuming,” he sighed loudly, “but I could do it, I suppose.”

Iruka’s eyes widened. _Romantic rivals?_ “I–er–no, don’t–don’t do that. They–the guys were just random people over the years. It’s not, like all of the jounin. For the love–“ Kakashi smelled really nice. He always did. God, he was leaning in. “–I might have exaggerated there about, um, how many people ever–“

“Iruka,” Kakashi whispered, close enough that his breath ghosted over Iruka’s lips. “If you stop jabbering, I can kiss you.”

Iruka’s mouth slammed shut.

“There we go,” Kakashi said and closed the gap between them.

He kissed Iruka like he meant to, like he’d always meant to. It was–well, it was great, wonderful even, spectacular.

Iruka pushed back, hands immediately going to Kakashi’s chest, to his flak jacket, to the various weapons and tools wrapped up in the many pockets. He shouldn’t be noticing how many smoke grenades the man was carrying. He should be kissing back.

Kakashi’s mouth was soft and Iruka was so glad he’d handed out mint chocolates after dinner, because Kakashi’s mouth was warm and tasted like cocoa. Which meant his tongue was in the jounin’s mouth.

“Oh my god,” Iruka pulled back in a gasp. “I’m so sorry.”

Kakashi blinked slowly, looking a little dazed. “For?”

“Tongue,” Iruka said, feeling like an idiot. “Kissing you.”

“I believe I kissed you,” Kakashi said. He watched Iruka for a moment. “Is this you saying no thank you?”

“No!” Iruka said. “I mean, no, I liked it. I like you. I mean, you can kiss me whenever you want.” _God, Iruka, keep it together!_

Kakashi’s smile crept across his face all sly. On any other man it would look creepy and predatory, but on Kakashi it just looked sexy as hell. “It’s very hard to hold myself back with you,” he said.

“What?” Iruka blinked, confused.

“I have had to practise a lot of calming chakra control,” Kakashi went on. “Had to make sure I didn’t overstep. After all, you are Konoha’s sweetheart and who am I to try to turn your head, hm? A Lowly random jounin with barely passable pick-up lines. Or none, in fact.”

Iruka spluttered, “Konoha’s _what?_ ” He could hear how strangled he sounded, like he was on the verge of slapping someone but he also heard the whole ‘turn your head’ line and felt his insides turn to mush. Was Kakashi _hitting_ on him? Had he perhaps ingested hallucinogenic mushrooms again?

“That’s what people call you,” Kakashi laughed and pulled back, giving Iruka room. “Apparently you’re too precious to sully with my very ill-intentions.”

Iruka wanted to respond to the outrageous implication that he was some kind of wilting princess that others daren’t touch, but instead he refocused on the more pressing point at hand.

“Did you say _sully?_ ” he said, voice cracking a little. “With ill-intent, Kakashi?”

Kakashi pursed his very alluring lips, “That is what I said.”

“I see,” Iruka patted at Kakashi’s flak jacket again. It wasn’t a very sexy move. “And do you have more to say on that topic?” He frowned and looked right into Kakashi’s eyes. “For archival purposes, of course.”

“Archival?” Kakashi said.

“Yes, you know,” Iruka rubbed one hand down the front zipper of the flak jacket. He hooked his index fingers under the hem and pulled gently, Kakashi’s hips shifting forward. “For me to file as–erm–a sort of mission statement.”

“Ah,” Kakashi hummed and stepped in even closer. Iruka felt two hands settle on his hips and his heart flip-flopped like a pancake in a pan. “You want me to itemize the ways in which I, perhaps, have thought of sullying your person? Your perfectly honourable person, Iruka?”

“Y-yes,” Iruka could barely breathe. “Line by line.”

“Hmmm,” Kakashi rumbled deep in his chest and Iruka realized, perhaps for the very first time, that maybe this guy was for real and wasn’t just fucking with him. “I think I can accommodate that request,” Kakashi purred.

Iruka pushed at Kakashi’s hitai-ate, pushing it up and off his head, grabbing it before it fell to the floor.

“You’re dead serious, aren’t you?” Iruka asked.

“I’m always serious, Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi murmured, all sharp eyes and soft mouth.

“Bullshit,” Iruka laughed and lifted his arms up and around Kakashi’s neck, pulling him in close, “you fucking liar.”

“Oh, my pride,” Kakashi said against Iruka’s seeking lips. They kissed, mouths open and wanting and so perfectly matched it made Iruka dizzy. How long had he dreamed of this very moment and how ridiculous had it always seemed?

Kakashi made some kind of noise, his breath catching in Iruka’s mouth, his hands grasping at Iruka’s hips. The counter was digging into Iruka’s lower back. Kakashi was leaning into him, really trying to get in close. It was heady and thrilling and _a lot._

When Kakashi’s hands found their way to Iruka’s ass and squeezed, fingers digging in, Iruka gasped , his own fingers scraping through Kakashi’s hair.

“Oh,” Iruka breathed, “It’s been a while.”

“Has it?” Kakashi purred, licking into his mouth, derailing Iruka’s next thought. The man could kiss. Iruka had spent far too much time over the years wondering if Kakashi ever got around, got laid, had illicit affairs. The how and where and _who_ became a series of queries tumbling around in Iruka’s head, driving him a little nuts. Could he be jealous of imaginary people he’d made up? The answer: yes.

Kakashi pulled away, breathing heavily. The electricity sparking between them was unmistakeable. Iruka knew chemistry when he felt it. This was going to be amazing.

“Bedroom?” Kakashi asked, ever pragmatic.

“Bedroom,” Iruka nodded and pushed at him before grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the kitchen and through the living quarters and across to the only door that had remained closed all evening.

* * *

Iruka woke up to a warm bed, his comforter pulled up over his shoulders. He was sleepy but content, rested in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

A shift of the mattress made him freeze.

He twisted in place, looking sharply over the edge of the bedding and found a very naked Kakashi sprawled out beside him, reading a book. He was long and lean, his skin so pale and dotted with scars and pale spots where healing jutus had done their work.

Iruka’s heart was pounding like a herd of thundering cattle. So it _had_ happened. It wasn’t some crazy dream. _Holy crap._

Kakashi turned the page and propped his one hand behind his head.

God, he was beautiful, so casually comfortable with his nakedness, just like he had been last night. Iruka shifted, fretting in his own desire while warring with the tragedy of having to now act like a mature adult after a night of insane sex with a colleague.

“I was wondering when you’d wake,” Kakashi said, still reading.

“Is that–is that my dad’s book on Motogai?” Iruka rasped.

“Uh huh,” Kakashi said. “It’s as good as I remember.”

Iruka shifted, feeling the ache in his hamstrings. Oh, the positions they’d tried out…thank god he kept himself fit or Kakashi might have snapped him in half. He rolled onto his side facing Kakashi. His eyes trailed over Kakashi’s body.

The man had zero fat on his very lean body, built to be flexible and strong to perfection. He must still train very hard to stay so fit. Iruka felt that maybe his own training regimen needing upping, especially if this ever became a regular thing.

He flushed. What was he thinking? How would this become a thing? Kakashi wasn’t here for long-term happiness. He probably just needed to get laid and Iruka was the most convenient option.

“I can hear the gears in your head grinding,” Kakashi murmured, turning the page.

Iruka burrowed under his comforter. After a moment of awkward silence, Kakashi shifted. Iruka felt the bed dip some more.

“Iruka,” Kakashi said. “Are you hiding from me?”

“No,” Iruka huffed. “Yes.”

The comforter was pulled down, revealing a gently smirking Kakashi. “Regrets already?”

“What?” Iruka cried, “No! I just… I’m processing.”

“What’s there to process?” Kakashi pulled the comforter down, eyes immediately dropping to look Iruka over. There was definitely a spark of keen interest in his eyes. “Although a second look isn’t a bad idea.”

“You pervert,” Iruka huffed, but couldn’t help the warm flush that rippled over him as Kakashi shifted to get under the comforter.

“That’s not what you thought of me last night,” Kakashi grinned. His breath was fresh, like he’s brushed his teeth. What the fuck, how long had he been awake? Had he just been wandering around Iruka’s home butt-naked, making free with his toiletries?

“I think a lot of things a lot of the time,” Iruka said, arm lifting as Kakashi scooted in close. Wow, this was really happening again. He was really living his best life at this very second.

Kakashi nipped at his collarbone, then up his neck. Iruka shivered. A leg snuck between his thighs, pressing Kakashi closer.

“One time,” Iruka said, “Naruto tried to make me dinner. Fish and vegetables.”

Kakashi paused. He looked up at Iruka through his mop of grey hair.

“So I thought I was putting my life in his hands,” Iruka soldiered on, “and I assumed I’d get food poisoning from the fish, or whatever.”

Kakashi frowned and pushed himself up on one elbow. “Iruka…”

“But the meal was great,” Iruka said. “Apparently Sakura had been teaching him how to cook properly, how to use the stove etcetera.”

Iruka smiled and pressed his palm to Kakashi’s cheek. “Except Naruto had neglected to mention he’d hand-picked the mushrooms.”

Kakashi arched an eyebrow.

“He’d accidentally fried up hallucinogenic mushrooms,” Iruka laughed, “And the two of us had the most amazing, if completely bizarre dinner.”

“Okay,” Kakashi murmured, confused. “And this is…”

“I thought maybe I’d eaten hallucinogens again. Last night.”

Kakashi turned to nip at Iruka’s thumb. “Because…”

“Because I’m confused as to why you stayed over.”

“I think it’s pretty clear why,” Kakashi said. “For your frankly rockin’ bod, sensei.”

Iruka barked out a laugh. Kakashi smiled and nipped at his wrist, then down to his chin. “You’re ridiculous,” Iruka snorted.

“Mmm,” Kakashi hummed and Iruka felt a hard cock pressing against his own slowly-waking one. God, this wasn’t a hallucination, no way.

Iruka tugged at Kakashi’s jaw, pulling the man back to his lips. They kissed slowly. Kakashi shifted, rolling Iruka onto his back and climbing over him. Iruka felt all weak, confused, but happy all over again. Was it possible to be this excited for something you’d already experienced only hours before?

Kakashi had been excellent the night before. He was very attentive, very good at everything, it seemed. Of course he was.

“Do you ever copy sex techniques,” Iruka said around Kakashi’s tongue. The other man blinked, then pulled away.

“What?”

“Er–“ Iruka flushed, realizing how idiotic he sounded.

“You’re asking if I use the sharingan to copy sex tips?” Kakashi cocked a brow at him. “No, I do not. That’s… I never thought to do so”

“Yeah, I–sorry, not sure why I said that,” Iruka blushed.

“Unless you meant it as a compliment?” Kakashi smirked, “a very roundabout compliment about my skills?”

“Maybe,” Iruka said, pulling Kakashi down. He groaned when Kakashi rolled his hips.

“So I left my mark, did I?” Kakashi murmured against his lips. A hand was now tugging at Iruka’s cock, gently stroking him to full hardness. Iruka’s head was spinning.

More than a few marks, Iruka wanted to say.

“Ah,” he breathed as a thumb stroked over the head of his cock, “There. Yes.”

“Mmm,” Kakashi hummed. He shifted, opening up Iruka’s legs and settling down between them, just like last night. He left just enough room to stroke Iruka slowly, milking soft sounds out of him.

“Ah,” Iruka said, “are you going to fuck me again?”

Kakashi considered him, his eyes heavy-lidded. “Mm, language,” it definitely didn’t seem to bother him. If anything, it seemed to make him more amorous, his hips shifting. “Would you like that?”

“Yeah,” Iruka exhaled and shivered, his back arching. Kakashi’s attention drifted to his nipples. Iruka recalled that the night before Kakashi had spent an inordinate amount of time laving at his nipples. They felt sensitive still, aching from all the attention.

“I can certainly accommodate your request, sensei,” Kakashi smiled and leaned in for another kiss. Iruka huffed into his mouth as the hand on his cock sped up for a second, then pulled back.

Kakashi leaned away, towards the bedside table. Iruka looked him over, at the way his muscles stretched over his ribcage, the way his nipples were small and pink, so unlike Iruka’s own dark nipples.

Kakashi snagged the absurdly small tube of lube that Iruka had gotten in some gift pack from a recent bachelorette party.

“We’ll need more of this,” Kakashi murmured, squirting a dollop expertly onto his fingers one-handed; ninja: good at everything.

“I can buy some today, tomorrow. Whenever,” Iruka said breathily. More lube meant more sex.

Kakashi didn’t seem weirded out by Iruka’s internal meltdown at the prospect of more, more, _more_. He must really be desperate, Iruka concluded.

Kakashi’s fingers found their way down between Iruka’s legs.

“Oh, cold,” Iruka said.

“Sorry,” Kakashi murmured. He seemed very focused on his task.

Iruka squirmed and opened up his legs some more. Kakashi paused, looked down, then sat up straight. He pushed the comforter back and away, revealing a very naked Iruka to the cool morning air. “That’s better. More for me to touch and get a good look at.” Kakashi smiled and got back to it.

Iruka shivered as Kakashi prepped him. He was still pretty loose from the night before and it felt… really good. Kakashi had nice long fingers, such talented hands.

Iruka’s opened up his legs more, flopping them wider. Kakashi rumbled deep inside his chest. Oh.

“You’re extremely–ah–distracting, sensei,” Kakashi looked up at him even as he pushed in with a second finger. Iruka could see the way Kakashi’s cock was flushed a deep pink, hard and ready.

Iruka gasped and shivered, his eyes falling shut. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

Kakashi’s other hand found his cock again and stroked him slowly. When Iruka opened his eyes, it was to Kakashi watching him intently. He wasn’t speaking, just breathing, mouth slightly open, eyes half-closed, watching.

“Oh,” Iruka’s hips shifted. Kakashi’s fingers brushed up against him inside. “Yes.”

“There?” Kakashi said.

“Uh huh,” Iruka panted, hips wriggling closer. God, he felt so wanton, so desperate for it.

Kakashi licked his lips, his own cock visibly twitching. “Ah,” Kakashi bit his bottom lip when Iruka gasped and buried his hands under the pillow beneath his head. “Iruka–“

“Yes?” Iruka breathed, enjoying the sensation of those eyes trailing down his arching body.

“I can’t possibly be expected to last long when you look this good,” Kakashi said. “Frankly, this is unfair.”

“This is a democracy,” Iruka huffed out, feeling all woozy and stuffy-headed. “Everything’s fair in this bed.”

“Hm,” Kakashi’s eyes flashed and he looked down his nose ay Iruka, like he was plotting. “In my home it’s more of a dictatorship.”

“Where you rule?” Iruka snorted. “Mm.” His eyes rolled back when Kakashi pulled his fingers free. He felt something larger pushing at his entrance.

“Something like that,” Kakashi shifted and got himself into position before looming over Iruka, pressing his one hand to the mattress beside Iruka’s shoulder. It wasn’t reminiscent of the night before.

Iruka frowned. “I kind of took over, didn’t I?”

Kakashi paused before pushing in. He cocked a brow. “Last night?”

“Y-yeah,” Iruka flushed even redder.

“I can’t complain,” Kakashi smiled, all leer. “Though I have to admit that no one has ever used me like a mechanical bull before.”

“Oh my god,” Iruka smacked Kakashi’s ribs. “Don’t say that. Also, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Kakashi leaned down and kissed him. “I enjoyed it immensely. I will wear these bruises like badges of honour.” So _that’s_ why Kakashi had purple spots around his thin hips.

“Nghh,” Iruka shuddered as Kakashi pushed in properly, filling Iruka up just like the night before. God, it felt good.

Kakashi was very talented at this. He started off slow, then built up some rhythm.

“Ah, ah,” Iruka gasped at a particularly sharp thrust. “Right there.”

“There?” Kakashi pushed in again, panting. He was hot against Iruka, his lean body pressing close.

“Oh, yes,” Iruka hissed and kissed Kakashi, licking into his mouth, biting for more. He pulled Kakashi in tight, needing more contact. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Kakashi pushed in harder, again and again. It felt fucking great. He hit Iruka’s prostate over and over, like he was not only good at studying jutsus, but also studying Iruka’s sexual responses.

“Mnh,” Kakashi panted, “Iruka.”

“Yeah, there,” Iruka said. “I’m ready. Go.”

They breathed together as Kakashi drove into him, not as wildly as the previous night, but in a similarly satisfying way. The sounds were obscene between them.

“Ungh,” Iruka tensed, then grunted as he came, spurting onto his own belly.

Kakashi braced himself and thrust in a couple more times, staring down between their bodies as he slipped in and out of Iruka. He pushed in hard and held himself still, muscles tensed, shivering.

Iruka clasped Kakashi’s sweaty face. Kakashi shuddered and came. Iruka’s orgasm was tapering off just as Kakashi’s rippled over him. It was great. Iruka arched up to kiss him through it.

“Mmm, good job,” he murmured breathily. “Excellent form.” He grinned and pulled back, flopping onto the bed.

Kakashi was panting, looking lazy and worn out by the exertion. He made a face, “Thanks,”he said and slowly lowered himself to settle on top of Iruka, his spent cock still inside. It felt nice, keeping him this close. No one else could have this moment. It was theirs.

Iruka wrapped his arms around Kakashi.

Kakashi’s breath was warm and wet against his neck, “We definitely need to do this more often, sensei,” he murmured.

Iruka’s heart skipped a beat and he smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

* * *

“Look at him go." Asuma leaned against the low wall on the rooftop patio that overlooked the street. Kurenai opposite him was watching the spectacle below with interest.

“Is that Iruka?” Genma said, sliding into the seat beside her.

“Yup,” Asuma said around his cigarette. “Chewing out the brats. Kakashi’s brats, to be specific.”

“Oho." Genma smirked. “What for?”

“Can’t quite tell,” Kurenai said. “But he’s been yelling for about five to seven minutes which probably feel like an actual eternity to those kids. Look at their faces; completely mortified.”

“Where’s Kakashi?” Genma asked. “Aren’t his kids too old to be yelled at? Last time I saw Naruto he was almost my height.”

Kurenai turned to give Genma the hairy eyeball. “First of all, you’re not a benchmark for tall people. And when has age ever stopped Iruka from yelling at us, his friends and equals, never mind those kids?”

“Touché." Genma sat back down. He waved the waitress down. “Oh, hey, it’s Kakashi.”

And so it was. Kakashi must have climbed onto the rooftop patio from the South wall, skirting the preferred street side. He loped over to their table.

“Oi, Kakashi." Kurenai grinned. “You don’t want to get down there to defend your team?”

Kakashi moved casually, coming to stand behind Asuma’s chair and then peering over the wall and down onto the street where Iruka could be seen getting into the arm-flailing portion of his tirade. Kakashi said nothing on behalf of team 7 who were visibly embarrassed by such a show of anger.

“I think sensei’s got them handled,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

“You just bolted, didn’t you?” Kurenai laughed. “What, don’t want to get yelled at by Konoha’s sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart?” Kakashi blinked at her.

“Yeah. That’s our boy, “Asuma sighed. “Cute and friendly until he goes completely feral and cuts your kneecaps off with a rusty katana.”

Kakashi seemed a little more interested somehow. “I see." He nodded. “No, I thought it best to leave them to their fate. Call it a lesson.”

“Harsh teachings." Genma snorted. “Glad you weren’t my sensei.”

“Iruka as a torture treatment." Asuma seemed to think about that for a second. “You think Ibiki’s considered him for it?”

“Nah." Genma waved him off. “Ibiki’s too busy to be hiring twinks.”

“Hm." Kakashi slid into the chair beside Kurenai. “Would Iruka be considered a twink? A bit old, isn’t he?”

“Not my area of expertise." Asuma held up his hands. “Ask this twink." He jabbed his thumb at Genma.

“That is the highest compliment you have ever paid me,” Genma said with wide eyes and a hand on his chest. “Thank you.”

“You’re also too old,” Kurenai snorted. “We’re all too old.”

“Never,” Kakashi said. “You’re all twinks in my heart.”

“Is that a good thing?” Asuma frowned at Kurenai, obviously genuinely concerned. “Do I _want_ to be a twink?”

Kurenai laughed harder than she had in ages.

“No, my darling man, you are as far from a twink as a person can get.”

“I don’t feel like that that’s a good thing,” Asuma griped, unsure.

“Trust me,” Genma nudged him under the table. “She knows what she’s talking about.”

* * *

“I mean, I thought he was rude,” Kurenai said as she walked down the street with Asuma at her side.

“He’s always rude,” Asuma said. He paused and looked around. “Wait, I thought we were visiting Iruka?”

“We are,” Kurenai said. “He’s got a fresh batch of explosive tags for me. I paid upfront so I could pick them up before my team’s mission.”

“I thought he was East district?” Asuma frowned, scratching his beard.

“You’re such a terrible ninja,” Kurenai said fondly. “No, he lives here.” She pointed up the block.

“Oh, wait, I’m thinking of Emura,” Asuma said, nodding now.

Kurenai squeezed his hand. “Nice cover,” she said. “It’s okay. I like my men dumb anyway. It makes me feel good about myself.”

Asuma laughed and she couldn’t help the smile that broke across her face. “I feel like there are stupider men in the village to date, then,” he said.

“Oh, so many." Kurenai furrowed her brows and kept smiling. “Count yourself lucky you’re not at the bottom of that pile.”

Asuma leaned in to kiss her softly. “I do count myself very lucky.”

“Maa, public displays of affection," a voice cut through Kurenai’s contentment, “very unorthodox.” She pulled away and looked up at the person approaching.

“Kakashi?” she frowned. “What are you doing up so early?” The sun had barely crested the horizon.

Kakashi shrugged, his visible eye curving in amusement. “It’s a beautiful day.”

Kurenai was already suspicious. The man wasn’t carrying his usual Icha Icha, plus he wasn’t in his flak jacket, donning just his ninja blacks, which was very unlike Kakashi, even on a weekend.

“You going to Godaime’s meeting this afternoon?” Asuma asked. “Something about the Sannin?”

“Yep,” Kakashi said, still moving along at his leisurely pace. “Wouldn’t dream of missing any of the Hokage’s scintillating briefings.”

“Okay, then,” Asuma murmured, watching Kakashi lope past, hands in his pockets, unconcerned as always.

“Huh,” Asuma said after a moment. “That’s strange, right?”

“Right?” Kurenai watched Kakashi’s back until he turned the corner, disappearing out of sight. “Doesn’t he live in the North district, near Kotetsu and Izumo’s place?”

“That’s–“ Asuma scratched his head. “Yeah, I thought so. Why the hell would he be round here at this hour? The shops aren’t even open yet.”

“Hm." Kurenai tugged his hand and they went on their way.

“Was that–“ She hesitated. “–was that a hickey on his skin?” She tapped her own neck, in the spot right about where Kakashi’s mask would terminate, right under the ear.

Asuma licked his lips. “I don’t think I want to know, honestly. Maybe a bug bite?”

Kurenai frowned. No, it was a purpling bruise in just the right shape. She’d worked enough with Shizune-san and the post-mortem medics. Kurenai understood bruising better than the average ninja. Maybe Kakashi had found himself a lover? Worse things could happen. She tried to picture Kakashihiding a secret like that. He would, surely, be better at it, no? The man was so private no one ever knew who, or if he was fucking.

“Oh! Kurenai, Asuma!”

Kurenai blinked, coming out of her thoughts, and looked around. No one was in sight.

Asuma nudged her with his elbow. He tilted his chin up. She followed his gaze up, up along the wall of windows. The apartment building wasn’t very tall, only three floors, but one set of high windows was wide open, a man leaning out of them.

“Iruka!” Kurenai blinked. “Oh, right. He lives here.”

Iruka was shirtless and leaning out his window, grinning. “You’re late!” he yelled.

“Hey, we’re here aren’t we, sheesh!” Her grin got tight as they approached.

“What the fuck?” Asuma gritted out under his breath. “Are you thinking–“

“No,” Kurenai hissed just as quietly. “Please god, no.”

“Remember those rumours from a year ago?” Asuma whispered. “What if–“

“They were fake!” Kurenai said. “Debunked. Remember? Iruka almost stabbed Genma for joking about it.”

“But, if we put two and two together, and Kakashi’s never in this part of town, and if he’s got hickeys… then–“

“I said no,” Kurenai hissed, eyes wide. “It’s too much data. Too good of a find. We are not blessed enough to be witnessing such prime gossip, Asuma. Don’t you understand?”

He stopped and looked down at her, cigarette dangling loosely between his lips. “The best gossip,” he whispered. “The famous Sharingan Kakashi deflowering the village’s lily-pure academy sensei. It could destroy us all.”

She slapped his arm, hard. “Don’t make fun! This is serious shit, Asuma! Also, you know Iruka was as unwholesome as shit before he settled down. Lily-pure my ass.”

“Hey!” Iruka yelled and waved at them. “You guys wanna hurry up? I have other plans today, you know!”

“Don’t look for evidence,” she said under her breath. “We get in, get the tags, and get out. Don’t give Kakashi an excuse to murder us. I’ve got vacation time coming up.”

Asuma snorted. “You’re going to have to try and stop me." He grinned evilly and Kurenai wondered, not for the first time, why all men were so stupid.

* * *

“Sensei,” Kakashi said, scratching at his hair. “I must admit, when you said to meet you at The Watering Hole and be prepared to ‘get wet’, I definitely misunderstood.”

Iruka, standing in a foot of green water, a child dangling from his hands, looked up at Kakashi. “You’re disgusting,” he laughed.

Kakashi inhaled slowly and tried not to be distracted by the muscular ripple that was Iruka’s stomach.

He looked around at the community swimming pool which was overrun with about twenty kids under the age of eight. “You invited me here to…babysit?”

Iruka gave an abashed head nod. “Well, my colleague came down with some flu or something and so she couldn’t help. This trip was booked weeks ago. I thought you might be willing considering you’re injured anyway and can’t get out on missions.”

Kakashi frowned. “I’m not injured,” he murmured, already unzipping his flak jacket.

Iruka put the child down and watched her run back across the sand to the pile of towels currently being used as a lopsided bed for some of the kids. He looked back at Kakashi with a wry twist to his lips. “So you don’t have a newly-realigned hip? Or is it your knee, because you’re definitely leaning a little to your left side.”

Kakashi blinked slowly. “Maa, sensei, are you spying on me?”

Iruka flushed pink all over his cheeks. It was very endearing. “No,” he said in a huff of air. “You were with your team yesterday. Down by Ichiraku. You were definitely limping.”

Hm.

Kakashi was pretty good at hiding any and all injuries he sustained under the disguise of laziness he wore in public. If you slouch enough, lope around lazily enough, people assume your body is just built that way. For Iruka to notice that he was recovering from a dislocated hip… well.

Kakashi kicked off his sandals and dropped his flak jacket on what he presumed was Iruka’s blue beach towel, the one with the basket of various sunscreens and floatie toys.

He paused for a moment, wondering why he was agreeing to this weird request of babysitting. He wasn’t a nursemaid. Hell, Kakashi barely spent any time at all around small children. Was Iruka insane? Was he, in fact, unhinged?

Most Konoha children were taught to swim very young, so Kakashi wasn’t all too surprised to see the majority of them making do under the circumstances, but there were a lot of them.

“Ah, sensei, that one might be drowning?” Kakashi pointed across the pool. Iruka twisted, gasped, and immediately dove into the water to save the pink, round child that had been bobbing along with the waves, facedown.

Kakashi hummed. He watched Iruka choke, the girl in his arms wailing and squealing as he dangled her above the water by her ankle. “We’ll need help, I think,” he murmured more to himself than anyone else.

Iruka corralled the kids to come sit beside Kakashi.

“Lay out your towels, come on." Iruka clapped loudly. “No one gets popsicles until you’re all sitting down.”

The rolling pile of small people squealed and pushed at one another until some semblance of order was gained.

“Now, everyone,” Iruka said, hands on his hips. He was wearing a pair of green swim shorts which did a lot for Kakashi, if he was honest. “Kakashi-sensei over here will be helping me keep the order. You promise to be nice to him, yes?”

One of the brats let out an unholy shriek and Kakashi winced. Did Iruka deal with this all day?

Iruka snorted at him. “Everyone sit still,” he barked. “Kimi, stop pulling your sister’s hair! Paku, please don’t pick your nose. There’s nothing of any value in there.”

“We need help,” Kakashi muttered under his breath. Why his mind had gone there and not _‘I have somewhere else to be. Anywhere, doesn’t matter, bye’_ said a lot more about how Iruka looked in swim shorts than Kakashi’s ability to lie to get out of things.

* * *

“Is this a mission?” Naruto frowned at Sasuke, his eyes narrowed in his tanned face.

Sasuke spat out an insult that denigrated not just Kakashi, but every branch in his diseased family tree. “No,” he hissed, bent over as Satoshi–some kind of Inuzuka wolf-child–dragged him further out into the pool. “Kakashi’s just bending over for Iruka, for bonus points.”

“Eh?” Naruto really was a complete idiot if he couldn’t see what was going on. “So why are we here?”

“Because babysitting is better when the adults don’t have to do it,” Sasuke said. Satoshi kicked off from his shins and Sasuke grunted, watching the kid float away, back-stroking across the rippling water like a mini athlete.

“Sasuke-kun." Sakura came sloshing closer. Sasuke tried not to be annoyed at the flush that blossomed over Naruto’s cheeks every time he saw Sakura in her basic black swimsuit. The dobe was too easy to fluster, honestly. He was nineteen, for fuck’s sake, not thirteen and discovering how his dick operated. “Sasuke-kun,” Sakura repeated when he didn’t acknowledge her. “Kakashi-sensei says you can’t just throw the children into the pool like they’re water bombs. If even one child dies, you will have to face the consequences.”

“Does he really think I can’t look after a pile of brats?” Sasuke hissed, gaze flicking over to the bastard Kakashi, lying on his side on a towel that was perfectly dry and not covered in toddler spit. He was using a stupid blur jutsu to cover his face. It was dumb as shit. How vain was the bastard?

Sakura hoisted the little boy in her arms up higher. He was very quiet, with dark, round eyes and a thumb in his mouth. Sasuke wondered if he had ever been so soft and pudgy.

One of the brats was trying to climb Naruto like a tree. Naruto chuckled and hefted the little girl onto his shoulders, easy as pie. She squealed with glee and tugged at his hair. Sasuke watched him giggle with the kids and hated the way Naruto could meld so well with them. Kids made Naruto smile in a way that Sasuke never could.

Also, Naruto had finally replaced his abhorrently small swim trunks for a new pair that was suspiciously matchy-matchy with Iruka’s. Naruto was all tan and lean these days, though his shoulders were wider than Sasuke remembered. When had the blond starting bulking up? Was he doing it intentionally? Why? Why would Naruto need to try?

Sakura chatted with the kid on Naruto’s shoulders, her grin mischievous while she jiggled the boy in her arms. Why were they both good with kids? What was happening? What the fuck?

He was going to say something snarky about how Iruka babied Naruto too much, made him soft, when something tugged at the back of his own shorts. Sasuke twisted and stared down at a kid with a shock of grey hair and pale eyes. The boy smiled up at him, hands on Sasuke’s shorts.

“What the f– heck you want?” Sasuke asked. The boy grinned wider and before Sasuke could figure out what was happening, the kid yanked on Sasuke’s shorts.

“What the fuck!” Sasuke shrieked not unlike Ino when her hairdresser had cut bangs into a sharp triangle over her eyebrows. Sasuke’s ass made an appearance and the kid splashed away, out of reach, snickering evilly.

“Sasuke-kun?” Sakura yelped, her body recoiling from whatever was being exposed to her. Sasuke hastily bent to pull his shorts up but they…were…stuck?

“What the hell,” he barked, pulling at the waistband in the back. The material was slippery, looser than usual, and it flopped down further in the front.

“Sasuke-baka!” Naruto wailed, completely red in the face. “Put your ding-dong away! There’s kids here!”

Sasuke blushed so hard it felt like his ears might melt off completely. He fell backwards into the water to cover himself. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Stop yelling!” Naruto bellowed back, trying to peel the kid off his shoulders before they both toppled into the water. He did not succeed.The splash was epic. The little girl swam away, splashing loudly as she went.

Sakura was wading away from them, her kid dangling awkwardly from her hands. She was bristling all over and Sasuke couldn’t blame her.

Sasuke, crouched like a gremlin in the water, could feel his shorts stuck halfway up his legs. This was unnatural.

He’d just flashed his teammates and probably half the toddlers in Konoha. He was going to die now. Naruto sputtered and wiped water out of his eyes.

“Where’s the bastard child who did this,” Sasuke hissed, his own hair sticking to his forehead.

“I don’t know!” Naruto snapped. “Why’d you have to flash us all! My innocent and pure eyes!” He was still red in the face.

Sasuke really would have preferred death over retaining this newly-formed traumatic memory. He twisted around, looking for the brat responsible. He scanned the pool, looking, searching. Most of them were passed out on the sand beside Iruka, a massive umbrella protecting them from the worst of the sun.

Kakashi was lying there, all nonchalant beside Iruka. He turned to look over at them. Even though he was in shadow, Sasuke could tell he was smirking.

Sasuke frowned. He couldn’t see the kid, the culprit. Come to mention it, he couldn’t recall there being a kid here with grey hair to begin with…

“That son of a bitch,” Sasuke hissed just as whatever jutsu was holding his shorts down released suddenly.

Kakashi waved at them.

“I’m going to murder him in his own fucking bed,” Sasuke said.

* * *

It was late in the day, and Iruka hadn’t stopped working since the moment he woke up and dragged his ass to the academy. He was too tired for this bullshit.

“You cannot send him to Sand!” Sasuke all but shrieked at him from across the mission desk. If Iruka weren’t secure in his mortality and the reasonably okay life he’d lived so far, he might have been scared of Sasuke’s rage manifesting before him. As it was, he couldn’t care less about whatever temper tantrum Sasuke was ramping up to. Iruka looked after insane mini-psychopaths all day, every day, for a living; the last remaining Uchiha having been one too at one point. He could stare death in the face and not flinch.

“And why is that?” he stamped the mission report Sasuke had brought in. It was sloppier than usual, the notes bare-boned and lacking any real detail; very unlike Sasuke’s usual reports. He looked at Sasuke, his disdain seeping into his every facial feature.

“Naruto can’t go to Sand alone,” Sasuke said, leaning over Iruka’s desk, palms flat against the wood.

Iruka sighed and looked at the clock. Forty minutes and he could end this godforsaken shift. “He’s not going alone,” Iruka said. “He’s got an entourage. I believe Kakashi assigned them.”

“He didn’t assign me!” Sasuke hissed, eyes flashing.

Ah.

Iruka inhaled slowly and put down the stamp. He laced his fingers together and looked up at Sasuke with zero compassion in his eyes. “So, your problem is not Naruto going to Sand, your issue is Naruto is going to Sand without you.”

“No!” Sasuke slammed his palm down on the desk again. Iruka’s eye twitched. He got enough sass from the special jounin, he didn’t need it from this one too.

“He shouldn’t be going to Sand at all! He’s Naruto and it’s dangerous for him. Specifically!”

“How?” Iruka said, deadpan. “The Kazekage is friends with Naruto. Gaara of the Sand is a welcoming ally. I’m sure he wouldn’t let any harm come to Naruto.”

“Oh, psh, yeah okay," Sasuke snapped like he was sixteen again. Except he wasn’t, so it came across as petty and childish. Iruka narrowed his eyes.

“You have thirty seconds to explain yourself before I expel you from the mission office, Sasuke-kun. Hop to it.” Iruka snapped his fingers.

His tone of voice must have carried the threat well because Sasuke paused, eyes skittering to the other desk where Kino sat, stamping her own pile of reports brought in by Anko. She wasn’t going to help. Kino loved when Iruka tossed the sassy ones out the door, said it made her have faith in humanity every time Iruka followed through on his threats.

“Okay, look." Sasuke leaned down, voice dropping to a whisper. “Just tell Kakashi-sensei that I need to be added to the detail. That’s all.”

Iruka’s other eye twitched. “You seem to be under the impression that A: Kakashi-sensei would listen to anything I had to say, and B: you’ve explained yourself properly. Fifteen seconds.”

“Naruto can’t go to Sand!” Sasuke whined, his hands now gripping the edge of the desk. God help him if he was using chakra and cracking the grain. “Just talk to Kaskaski-sensei. You have sway with him. Naruto’s too dumb to figure this stuff out. Gaara’s going to steal him.” His voice got real shrill at the end there.

“Steal him,” Iruka said slowly. “How? And more importantly, why?”

“Because he’s Gaara!” Sasuke hissed. “He’s a fucking psychopath!” With Sasuke’s face all scrunched up, eyes flashing hints of red, and his hair bristling the way it was, it made Iruka wonder if the Uchiha ever taught their kids any self-awareness.

“You haven’t explained anything.” Iruka sighed, sitting back. “If this was a real consular concern, you could have gone to the Hokage.”

“I did!” Sasuke barked. “She laughed and kicked me out of her office.”

Iruka blinked. “She did, huh?”

“I thought she cared about that dobe,” Sasuke muttered under his breath. He flicked a hand through his hair and stood up, tall and straight-backed. His new uniform with the pale grey tunic and the dark blue, loosely-draped hakama lent him some dignity, but he was still that bratty kid from the academy. Some things never changed.

“Sasuke-kun,” Iruka said slowly. “If Hokage-sama deemed your request too small to be of note, then why would I do anything about it?”

“Because you like Naruto,” he murmured. “He’s your favourite.”

Iruka pondered that for a moment. That wasn’t an explanation at all. Also, completely beside the point.

“What is happening with you lately?” Iruka asked, a frown marring his brow. “Kakashi-sensei mentioned you’d been snapping a lot. Is this all because of Naruto leaving for a month on the diplomatic mission to Sand? Sasuke," Iruka softened his gaze a bit, “he’ll be coming back.”

“Not if Gaara gets his claws into him,” Sasuke said mulishly, eyes averted.

“Ah." it was starting to make sense. “So…”

“Don’t–“ Sasuke cut him off as a faint pink staining his cheekbones. “I just wanted you to help. That fucking idiot’s gonna end up fucking betrothed or some shit to that psychopath and it’ll be too late.”

Too late for what?

“Sasuke." Iruka rubbed at his eyebrows, willing away the fast-approaching migraine. “I really don’t want to know any more. But whatever is plaguing you, maybe you should just go talk it out with your team. Go speak to Naruto.”

Sasuke bristled. A couple jounin entered the room. Sasuke looked around.

“No,” he snapped, glaring down at Iruka. “You know what? Let him go. Let that Sand bastard kidnap him and keep him forever. What do I care!” He turned on his feet and stormed out of the room in a flurry of lush fabric and glossy hair.

“You need to get back to therapy, Sasuke!” Iruka bellowed.

“I _have_ therapy. Every. Fucking. _Thursday!_ ” Sasuke bellowed right back, his voice echoing down the hallway.

Iruka sighed and leaned back in his chair. He was going to need a stiff drink when he got home.

“Hey.”

Iruka glanced over at Kino. She was grinning. “At least it wasn’t another one admitting their undying love and devotion to you, Iruka-san.”

“Oh God, don’t even–“ Iruka was getting too old and tired for this shit.

* * *

“Well your stupid plan seems to be working,” Iruka sighed.

Kakashi had just wandered into the mission office, looking around at how empty it was.

“My plan?” Kakashi loped closer, grinning under his mask.

Iruka glared at him. He stamped the sheet in front of him. The desk quivered. Kakashi raised a brow.

“You’re going to drive Sasuke to insanity,” Iruka said. “Just because you think you can force them to get together.”

“Maa, sensei,” Kakashi leaned back, hands in his pants pockets. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“All these pranks you’re pulling, having them do weird missions together, fucking with Sasuke’s head, sending Naruto to Sand without him? You’re going to break him.”

“Hm,” Kakashi was watching him. “But if we hurry them along, maybe they’ll stop being stupid in front of me, thereby making my life more enjoyable and them less hostile.”

“Just let them figure it out,” Iruka said, sitting back in his chair. The rush of mission reporting was done for the day, leaving Iruka to just stack up the processed reports and file them. “They’re not kids anymore, Kakashi.”

“Says the man who had to calm down a teary-eyed, sobbing and wailing Naruto not even a week ago after he found out his adorable, most loving sensei was getting regularly railed–“

“Shut it!” Iruka hissed. “And that was an extenuating circumstance that I should have made plans for. Naruto’s a gentle soul.”

“Right. And he doesn’t like the fact you and I are together,” Kakashi snorted, amused.

Iruka had had to really stuff Naruto full of ramen when the news had finally reached him. Poor kid. “Be that as it may,” Iruka stood up wearily. “He will learn to deal with it.”

“He tried to stab me yesterday, you know,” Kakashi murmured.

“He tries to stab you every other week. Please,” Iruka snorted and stepped out from behind the mission desk. “As if you can’t see it coming. What are you, getting old?”

“Apparently,” Kakashi murmured. He tugged Iruka close by his flak jacket.

“I’m at _work_ ,” Iruka said, not pulling away in the slightest.

“Your shift just ended,” Kakashi said, left hand finding its way to a belt loop. He palmed Iruka’s hip.

“You’re not getting out of dealing with your choices, Kakashi,” Iruka scowled, trying his level best to not be distracted by the flagrant display of attention.

“Sasuke’s coming around,” Kakashi said. “He hasn’t gone psycho in so very long. All he needs is one more poke in the right direction, though preferably said poke will come from Naruto, not me.”

“You’re disgusting,” Iruka said.

“I’m pragmatic and I get the job done,” Kakashi countered. He glanced to the door of the mission room before turning back to Iruka. And before anyone could enter the room to disturb them, he pulled his mask down for just a moment and gave Iruka a kiss.

It was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :D


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